


Daddy Issues

by homesoutofhuman



Category: John Wick (Movies)
Genre: Daddy Kink, F/M, Fluff, Kid Fic, Praise Kink, Rough Sex, Smut, UST, age gap, john wick is sexy af, keanu reeves i'm looking at you, sexual tension oh my
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-10
Updated: 2018-12-10
Packaged: 2019-09-15 16:34:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 38,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16936791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/homesoutofhuman/pseuds/homesoutofhuman
Summary: Dilf! John Wick hires you as nanny to his adorable kid, but the attraction between you is almost too much to ignore.





	1. Pleased to meet you

_Pleased to meet you_   
_Hope you guess my name_   
_Ah, what’s puzzling you_   
_Is the nature of my game_

-Sympathy for the devil, The Rolling Stones

————–

 

John opens the door to see you standing there, a lollipop between your lips. You pull it out abruptly and offer your hand.

“Mr Wick? I’m your new nanny.”

He gives you a sceptical look.

“How old are you?”

You roll your eyes “I get that a lot…I’ve finished college…relax…I’m legal…” You can’t resist giving him a cheeky wink and smile to see the colour rush to his cheeks.

“I…didn’t mean that. I just didn’t want a kid looking after my kid.”

“It’s fine.” you reassure him, giving his arm a comforting squeeze, you feel hard muscles under your fingers and lick your lips. Hmmm…daddy works out.

He nods curtly.

“Well i suppose we’ll have to see how we get on together. This is Connor.”

He introduces a little toddler with curly hair who has the same dark eyes as his father.

“Hi Connor!” You say, breezily, giving him a little wave.

The kid grins but then hides behind his father’s legs.

John chuckles, petting his head and introducing you. “Connor…this is y/n. She might be looking after you while I’m at work.”

John gives you another doubtful look and you pull colouring books and pencils from your bag.

“Hey little buddy, why don’t we go draw, yes?”

The boy agrees enthusiastically and you sit next to him at the table, commenting and encouraging.

John watches you together, his dark eyes mysterious and thoughtful. He walks over to you both after a while.

“So I suppose I should…interview you…”

You look up from Connor’s dinosaur drawing and nod. “Sure…what do you want to know?”

He moves to the couch and inclines his head that you should follow him. You obediently place yourself in the chair nearby, smoothing your skirt over your knees. John’s eyes drop to your legs for a moment before he shakes himself and returns them to your face.

“How long have you been doing this job?”

“Since forever. I’m the oldest of 5, I looked after my younger brothers and sisters, then I studied Child Psychology at college, I’m doing the nanny thing now to save up for my masters degree…”

John is staring at you so you stop talking. “What is it?”

“N..nothing, I’m just surprised…”

“I look dumb to you?” You ask playfully.

“No…it’s just…you’re so pretty…” he struggles and you smile quietly to yourself. Stunning this handsome man into stuttering makes you feel a little smug.

“You think i’m too pretty to be smart? That’s kinda insulting Mr Wick.” you say, hiding your smirk behind your hand. He thinks you’re pretty.

“Please call me John and you’re right. That was a piggish thing to say. I’m just…getting used to all this still.” He waves a hand towards Connor. “I’ve been off work since he was born so it’s an adjustment.”

“What happened to his mother, if you don’t mind my asking?” You shift forward in your chair and lean into his space.

John regards you with pained dark eyes. “No, sure, that’s fair. She was a woman I met on one of my…work trips. We were never really together, she just showed up here with him and then left.”

You are stunned into silence. You feel sorry for the little boy, and also for John, whose life must have been turned upside down by his arrival. You are impressed at his selflessness, to care for the boy, perhaps not even knowing if he was really his son. Then you glance over to see Connor watching you with dark round eyes and you know there is no doubt to his parentage.

John clears his throat, clearly a bit emotional. You wonder if he cared for the boy’s mother than he cares to admit, but then you see him looking at his son and you realise the emotion is all for him. You touch his arm again.

“You’ve done an amazing job, he’s a very bright kid.”

John returns his gaze to you, it’s intense, like looking at the sun for too long.

“Thank you. That means a lot.”

“Do you have any more questions?” You tilt your head and John’s eyes flick from your long neck to your collarbone then down to your cleavage. You feel his gaze like fire and okay, this could be a problem.

“John?” you prompt, when he is silent.

“I need to think it over. Can I call you later?”

You nod and pass him your card. “I know you have the agency number but here are my personal details. I hope to hear from you soon.”

John takes it a little hesitantly, but stows it away in the pocket of his jeans and you smile again.

“Goodbye for now Mr Wick, bye Connor!” You wave and the little boy waves back, holding up his drawing for you to see. You give him the thumbs up, then John guides you to the door, his hand on the small of your back. It feels firm, confident, and you are a little breathless as you stumble outside into the sunshine.

John shuts the door behind you then leans against it, taking a few deep breaths.

Well that was unexpected.

He checks on Connor, going to make them both a drink. Orange juice for the little guy and whiskey for the big one. He feels bad drinking alcohol with his son there but after that encounter he really fucking needs it.

He grabs his phone and dials his best friend.

“Aurelio?”

“Hey John. I was going to call you, a great new Mustang just came in the shop if you want to come take a look…”

“I need your advice.” John interrupts.

“Oh sure, go ahead.”

John can hear the sound of Aurelio shutting the door to his office.

“I just interviewed a nanny for Connor and she’s great…”

Aurelio smiles into the phone “That’s good John, you need to get some of your own life back.”

John sighs “I know, I know you’ve been telling me that for years now but there’s a problem.”

“What? I thought you said she’s great?”

“She is but….I think I’m attracted to her.”

He can hear Aurelio’s suppressed laughter down the phone and feels offended.

“Hey..this is a genuine problem. All the other nannies I interviewed were either evil old crones or on drugs. I’m kinda desperate here.”

“And that’s the problem, John.” Aurelio continues, his voice barely disguising his mirth.

“You are desperate. You’ve not slept with a woman since Connor was born, you’re bound to get a bit hot under the collar for some pretty young thing who’s good with your kid.”

John downs his drink and welcomes the burning taste. “You think that’s all it is?”

“Sure…it’ll probably go away once you see her covered in toddler puke. Or until you go out and get laid…like I told you to.”

John slams the glass down on the table. “I will…when I’m ready.”

Aurelio’s voice softens a bit “I’m only looking out for you John you know that.”

“I know…thank you old friend.”

“And let me know how you get on with the hot nanny!”

John hangs up on him, shaking his head. Connor comes toddling into the kitchen to find his dad.

“Papa?”

“Yes little one?”

“Will the lady with the fun crayons come back? I wanted to show her my drawing.”

John drops his shoulders, defeated. “She’ll be back, I’m going to call her right now, okay?”

Connor whoops with joy and runs back into the living room.

Well this isn’t my fault now, thinks John, this decision is not my responsibility.

He dials your number with this thought in his head, hope rising in his chest that will accept his offer.

_What could possibly go wrong?_


	2. Crush

_Do you ever think when you’re all alone_   
_All that we can be, where this thing can go?_   
_Am I crazy or falling in love?_   
_Is it real or just another crush?_

Crush, David Archuleta

————-

You cannot explain the glee you felt after accepting John’s offer of employment. You figure you must be because of how cute Connor is, but you worry it might be something to do with his father’s soft eyes and delicious looking lips.

He’s twice your age, so surely nothing can happen between you. Still, you take a little extra care getting ready to go to his house, slicking pink lipgloss on your lips and choosing a low cut top to go with your cutoff jeans.

John’s wide eyes when he opens the door are all the reward you need.

“Uh….” he looks you up and down, broad shoulders a little tense, questioning the appropriateness of your outfit for looking after his son.

“It’s hot out.” you say by way of explanation, moving inside, making sure to brush up against him as you do.

He is warm, and he smells alluring, like cedarwood and patchouli and you wonder if he sprayed cologne on himself before you arrived.

You stare a bit, he is dressed differently to the last time you saw him, rather than the casual blue shirt and jeans, now he is all in black, his tie tight up to his throat, his hair slicked back.

“You’re going to work Mr Wick?” you check, he looks like he’s ready for a high class date.

“Yes.” he nods, sliding his jacket over those shoulders and you blink to stop staring.

“Oh…that’s…great…I thought me and Connor would go to the park is that okay?”

He smiles a bit, walking towards you, pulling his wallet from his jacket.

“It’s fine. Here’s some money for an ice cream.”

Your mouth opens to refuse, but you see the wad of cash in his leather wallet, green for days.

“There’s enough here to buy a whole ice cream truck.”

It’s his turn to look embarrassed. “Well….your salary might take a while to come in…and you never know what else you might need to buy.”

You shrug. “You want anything?”

He turns back to you sharply, and you don’t miss the way his eyes linger on your pink, glossy lips.

“I want….to come with you both…but I really have to work.”

“That’s a shame…I wish you could come too.”

“You do?” John looks surprised and you turn away to hide your fondness, bending to pick up Connor’s backpack.

When you straighten up you suspect John had been looking at your ass. By the way he clears his throat and adjusts his belt, you are glad to see he is not immune to your curves.

“Of course…that sounds much more tempting than going to work, stuck in an office all day.”

“Well if it helps, you look very smart, and Connor and I will tell you all about the park when you get home.”

John’s cheeks are slightly pink at your words, he finds he likes the domestic picture you have painted.

“I’ll….look forward to it.”

He goes to say goodbye to Connor and you take the opportunity to pull yourself together. The temptation to flirt with him is so strong, but you know you have to resist it.

John moves to the door reluctantly. “Now, you have my number yes? Call me if you any concern at all.”

“John. It’ll be fine. I will call you if anything happens but we’re going to have a great day, don’t worry.”

He smiles at you gratefully before climbing into his car, reversing out of the drive with a skill that makes your curiosity spark. Not just a dad then.

You head to the park with Connor, stretching out your long legs and soaking up the sunshine as he plays. You catch the lustful glances of the fathers, and the jealous glares of some of the mothers, but neither bother you, you’re daydreaming about one person only.

The way John looked today set your head spinning. The slicked back hair and black suit were seductive, but you ponder that you almost preferred the way you’d first met him, unironed shirt and dark hair curling around his face. He’s handsome, and his age seems only to have given a deeper quality to it, like expensive wine. You like the way he moves, slow and gentle with Connor, but elegant and supple, almost like a dancer.

He’s sexy, and you get the idea it’s been a while since he’d paid attention to that side of his life. A little rusty perhaps, but you can see the vital life running beneath the tired ‘single dad’ shell, the power hiding in those large hands.

So you have a little crush, it’s not serious, nothing to worry, you’re sure it will go away in time.

Connor comes rushing up to you and you smile at him “Time for ice cream.”

As you lick the cornet you find yourself wishing that John was there too, he’s so mysterious, and you’d like to know more about his life. You glance at the little toddler beside you who is enthusiastically munching on his chocolate sprinkles.

“Connor….” you say, keeping your voice light. “Tell me about your dad.”

“Papa?” he asks and you wonder at the name.

“Yeah.”

“He’s big and funny and sometimes he’s a monster, and he lets me ride on his back.”

“A tame monster?” you smile at the image.

Connor nods “Yep. He growls, but I know he’d never hurt me.”

“You’re right, he wouldn’t.” You throw the rest of your ice cream in the trash, suddenly not interested in food.

“Come on, let’s go home.”

You let yourself into John’s house with the key he gave you, and relent to Connor’s insistent requests to play a game on his dad’s ipad, telling him to limit it to 20 minutes.

As he plays, lost and happy in his own world you look around the house inquisitively. John has a classic taste in furnishing, the dark wood and heavy fabrics seem to suit him somehow. There is a very expensive coffee machine in the kitchen, and you spot bottles of bourbon hidden away safely on a high shelf. So he does have vices.

Your gaze strays to the stairs, and you can’t help wondering what his bedroom looks like, and how many women have been lucky enough to find out. You wonder what kind of a lover he is, you’ve glimpsed his capacity for affection, the stormy emotions that lay just beneath that taciturn exterior. It worries you how easily you can imagine yourself in bed with him, that way madness lies.

John comes home just as you are trying to convince Connor he needs a bath before bed. He announces his arrival with a soft ‘I’m home’ and Connor runs to hug him. You have to sit on your hands to avoid the urge to do the same.

“Hey.” you say instead, and he nods at you.

“I’ll just put Connor to bed then I’d love to know how your day went…”

“Oh I can do that…” you protest but he shakes his head.

“I’d like to do it, really.”

You watch, feeling a bit of a spare part as he scoops his son up into his arms and carries him upstairs. A few minutes later you hear his deep voice murmuring and you count to three before you’re creeping up the stairs after them.


	3. The Wrong Place for My Love

_Clothes off ‘cause she so soft_   
_This ain’t a fair fight, yeah_   
_I wanna share love_

\- Zayn ft, Kehlani, wRoNg

————–

You’re no coward, quite the opposite in fact, but you find yourself a little cautious as you creep softly to peak inside the door.

John is sitting on his son’s bed reading him a bedtime story. His gravelly voice is animated as he does different voices for the different characters. You grip the door frame with your fingers, eager to hear more.

John finishes the story and by that time Connor has already fallen asleep. John kisses his head and tucks him in, moving towards the door and turning off the light.

You step backwards not to be caught but it is too late, John has seen you. His gaze is steady, assessing and it feels like he’s looking through any bullshit you’re about to make up, right into your soul.

He moves into your space, looking down at you, and you look up, he’s so damn tall. The air between you buzzes with unspoken tension, it curls in your stomach and sets your nerve endings on fire.

“You want a bedtime story too?”

John raises an dark eyebrow and you open your mouth to speak, but he doesn’t seem to require an answer. After staring at you inscrutably for a few more moments he nods towards what must be his own bedroom door and your mouth goes dry.

“I know I said we’d talk but I’m dead beat. Can we catch up tomorrow?”

You nod, dumbly. “Yes…sir…I mean..Mr Wick..I mean…John.”

He chuckles a bit, shaking his head and moving away. “Let yourself out, goodnight y/n”

John walks into his room, sits down on his bed and puts his head in his hands.

“Shit.” he says out loud.

He has two choices, a cold shower, or daring to indulge himself in thoughts of you. Later that night, his hand finds its way into his boxers. This is wrong. He sternly tells himself, but that somehow makes him even harder, makes him touch himself more roughly. He imagines it is your hand touching him and loses it.

Moving to the en-suite to clean himself up, he splashes water on his face and looks in the mirror.

“You’re a very bad man John Wick.” he tells himself, promising this will be the end to this nonsense.


	4. Melting in Your Vice Dreams

_I can give you what you want_   
_I can make your heart beat, short_   
_I can make you ice cream_   
_We could be a sweet team_

\- Ice Cream, New Young Pony Club

——————–

It’s the weekend, so you have time to yourself, and do not have to visit The Wick household. You are a little sad about it you must admit, having grown used to your routine over the couple of weeks you’ve been working there.

Your day usually starts with a coffee that John makes you from his expensive machine. As you sip it you get to watch him prepare to leave the house, combing his dark hair back in the mirror, straightening his tie. Even searching frantically for keys which you hand to him with a small smile. He thanks you gratefully, kisses Connor on the head then runs out of the house in a cloud of that now familiar blend of wood and flowers that both comforts and flusters you.

You’ve think you must be imagining the longing look in his eyes when he leaves you, or the relieved smile when you tell you and Connor have had a good day. He’s given you his phone number and you’ve started to send him photos throughout the day. Connor smiling as he goes down the slide, the two of you enjoying ice cream floats.

Next time we’ll have vegetables, I promise! You caption it.

John stares at those photos a little more than he should, noticing your hair, blown by the wind, slightly messy over your eyes, the laughter clear on your face, the smear of ice cream on your lips that he yearns to lick away. He tells himself he’s doing a good job of getting over his attraction to you, ignore it, then it will go away.

You feel at a little loose end with the whole weekend stretching ahead of you, but since the sun is shining, you decide to make the most of it, putting on a bikini and setting yourself up in the yard, an iced tea and a stack of books beside you to keep you amused.

You doze in the sunshine, having a lovely fantasy about your employer. You imagine what would have happened if you’d kissed him that very first day you’d met. If you’d pulled the lollipop from your lips and said;

“Mr Wick? I’m your new lover…”

Then pushed him inside and kissed him with your sweet sticky mouth, licking at the tempting seam of his lips. You feel yourself growing hot, imagining the weight of his tongue in your mouth, his big hands stripping you of your clothes…

“I’m so sorry I know it’s your day off…”

You think the low rumbling voice is in your daydream at first, but then you crack open your eyes and see Mr John Wick standing over you, you yelp and sit up, knocking your iced tea over.

It soaks into the grass and he kneels to right the glass, a futile endeavour. On his knees, John is level with your eyes and you stare at him, still a little dazed and doubting he is really there.

He is wearing what you now fondly call ‘lazy dad get up’. Dark jeans cling to his strong legs, wrinkled shirt, and mussed hair, free of the gel he uses on work days.

“What….are you doing here?” you ask, falteringly.

John pushes himself up off his knees. His eyes run over your body, and you remember you are only wearing a bikini.

Not one to be shy you spread your long legs out and arch up your chest to his eager eyes.

I’ll give him something to stare at.

John’s eyes are huge and he moves away in an effort to stop leering. He sits down on a garden chair and you look at him questioningly.

“Is there a reason you’re at my house, Mr Wick?”

“Yes, forgive me for disturbing you. It’s Connor, he has a cold and was fussy last night, asking for you.”

Your heart softens smile gently at John, your hands itch to touch him, you want to throw your arms around him and let yourselves find comfort in each other. But of course, you don’t.

“Why didn’t you just call me?” you’re curious, rather than accusatory, stunned that he has gone out of his way to come to you, a little embarrassed, and just a tiny, tiny bit hopeful that it means he likes you more than as just his employee.

John looks bashful. “Actually…he’s waiting in the car…wouldn’t settle until you came out for ice cream.”

He looks so imploring, child like himself, that even if you wanted to, you couldn’t possibly resist.

You stand up. “Well what are we waiting for? Let’s go!”

John clears his throat, looking you up and down. “Maybe…if you don’t want to cause a major accident, you should put a few more clothes on?”

“Oh right…yes…” you giggle, pretending to cover yourself up demurely, but really you are celebrating a victory internally at his discomfort. “I’ll slip into something else…”

You bound inside and pull a white sundress over your bikini. It shows off the freckles on your shoulders and is sinfully short. What the hell, it’s my day off, I need John to remember that.

Once you’re back at the car, you hug Connor, who sniffs into your neck and whines about his cold. You sit holding his hand in the backseat while John drives you to the ice cream parlour, and by the time you’re there he has forgotten his sickness, bounding inside like a rocket.

John watches him go, a little quiet and pensive and you glance to him.

“Are you okay?”

He glances back to you, and you can see his walls, ready to come up at any moment. You lean forward before that can happen, rubbing the top of his arm, his shirt soft under your thumb.

“You can talk to me..”

John sighs a bit, his eyes flicking to check on Connor who is making friends with the staff, tasting every flavour of ice cream.

John sits with you at the table, ordering a coffee and telling you to get whatever you want, on him of course.

“I just…I have to admit, I felt a little upset…that he was asking for you. Usually all he wants when he’s sick is me…”

You reach across the table, patting his hands which are clenched together in a tight grip.

“You’re his Dad. He does want you first. I’m just new…a novelty. You’re the permanent thing in his life and you always have been, always will be.”

John looks down to where your hand lays top of his, then moves his own to keep it there.

“Thank you…I know but still…I felt a little…jealous…” he doesn’t specify of what, so you are left wondering.

The waitress brings John’s coffee and your dish of ice cream.

John snorts with sudden laughter “What the hell is that?”

“A banana split!” You say, in mock outrage. “You never had a banana split John?”

“I never had something so ridiculous looking, no.”

You pick up the cherry from the top and suck it into your mouth and John’s smile fades.

You shove a spoonful of ice cream into your mouth and moan. “Oh my god…it’s so good…”

John shifts a bit in his chair. “Glad you…are enjoying it…”

“Try some…” you offer a full spoon to him and he shakes head, looking suspicious.

“I don’t think so.”

“What are you on a diet?” You tease and he glares a bit.

“I watch what I eat. I’m not as young as I was…things don’t burn off as easily.”

He pats his stomach and you roll your eyes. You love the way he looks, dad tum included, but of course you can’t say that.

“Then you mustn’t be doing the right things to burn them off…”

John gives you a heated look.

“You’ve got cream…on your mouth…”

“Oh?” You stick your tongue out, trying to guess wildly where.

John sighs, sounding long suffering and moves his hand from yours, up to your mouth, wiping the side of your lips with his thumb.

You freeze, the feeling of his thumb on your lips is devastating.

“Did you get it all?” you practically whimper.

“Not…really…” John’s voice in turn has turned unearthly, lower than you’ve ever heard it. It drags along your skin, sending every nerve ending singing in its wake.

He reaches to hold your chin still with his thumb and forefinger, then swipes the entire curve of your lips with a long index finger. You stay stock still, drowning in his dark eyes as they focus on your mouth, like it is an heroic task he has to complete.

You’re trembling, and you don’t like it, so you let the tip of your tongue flick out, touching his finger. John pulls his finger back as if burnt, but keeps his grip on your chin a moment longer.

“There…now you’re clean.”

You feel far from it, when he leans back in his chair you have to cross your legs in an attempt to stop the throbbing between them.

Connor is giggling with the waitress, his runny nose forgotten, and the shop fills with a pleasant ambience of families talking and laughing together. Amongst it all, sits John, sipping his coffee, appearing unaffected by your closeness, glancing to his son every now and again, then back to you, an unreadable expression in his soft brown eyes.

“I should go…leave you to your day…”

John frowns, displeased. “Of course…you must have plans…meeting your..boyfriend, girlfriend?”

You shake your head at his clumsy question, how can he be this age and not know how to ask that?

“I’m not seeing anyone”

“That’s…surprising…” John replies “You’re…I mean…you’re smart…attractive.”

You smirk a bit at him. “Thanks. I just haven’t found anyone…up to my standards yet.”

John raises his eyebrows “It’s good to have high standards, as long as they’re not impossible?”

You tick off your fingers “They should be intelligent, have their shit together, of course hot…and most of all..know how to handle me.”

John looks intrigued “You’re hard to handle?”

You shrug. “A little, people just need to know how to put me in my place.”

“You’re a softy with Connor.”

“Yeah well….fully grown up they’re a different story.”

“That’s because you’ve dated boys…you need a man.”

John answers quickly, before he can think properly, and as soon as the words are out he knows he said too much.

You watch the doubt settle in on his face after such a firm pronouncement, and decide to torture him even more, in revenge for touching you so erotically, for turning you on with nowhere to go.

“Oh yes?” you say in a sultry, teasing voice “And you know what I need, Mr Wick?”

He grunts, feeling he’s placed one step onto a burning path, and the only way out is to keep going.

“Maybe I do….I’m much older than you…I know better…”

You laugh at his teasing tone, loving the banter between you.

“I’m not your child, John, and besides, you’re not old, you’re just…seasoned…”

He barks a laugh, holding a hand to his chest in mock offence “Like…a piece of meat? Is that how you see me?”

You flush, he winds you up like no one else, leads you to say things you don’t mean, things that aren’t carefully controlled and passed through your filter first. He makes you feel raw and open, and you realise you like it and hate it at the same time.

“Actually…far from it…” you attempt to explain and he leans forward with rapt interest.

“You know I…have a lot of respect for you.”

John breathes deeply, nodding “That’s a good thing, thank you. Not sure what I’ve done to deserve it but thank you anyway.”

“It’s the way you are with Connor…if you want to know…the way you quote books at me that I’ve never read and make it sound like poetry…the way you make me a coffee every morning just how I like it….”

John is staring at you, amazed. “I didn’t realise you noticed me that much, if at all.”

“I’d have to be blind not to, Mr Wick.” you say, soft and playful, trying to pull the conversation back from the edge of danger.

“So you like working for me then?”

“I do. Not saying I couldn’t do with a raise but still…”

John lets out a laugh, the tension broken, and taps the side of your bowl.

“Just eat your banana split and be grateful….”

You eat the rest carefully, making sure not to make a mess that John might have to clean up, although you long for him to touch you again, to lick your mouth clean with his tongue.

Connor is high on sugar, bouncing around between the two of you as you walk outside.

John turns to you, shoving his hands in his pockets where they can’t cause any trouble.

“I’ll take you home. I’m sorry we messed up your day like this.”

“I enjoyed it.” you say simply, feeling a dread in your stomach at leaving him, of going back to your house alone.

You sit in the passenger seat this time, and you know it’s all your head, but the air between you and John seems charged, the heat between you almost tangible.

You thank him for the ride and he shakes his head dismissing your words. He lifts the strap on your sundress which has fallen down your arm, pushing it back onto your shoulder gently.

You’re about five seconds away from climbing onto his lap and begging him to fuck you in his car, but then you remember there is a child in the backseat and feel ashamed.

“I’ll see you Monday?” You ask in a rush, opening the car door with haste.

He leans over the seat to watch you go, and you put an extra swing in your hips for his benefit as you walk away.


	5. One call away

_I’m only one call away_   
_I’ll be there to save the day_   
_Superman got nothing on me_   
_I’m only one call away_

\- One call away Charlie Puth

———————

On Monday morning you are surprised to find John still dressed in casual clothes, leaning over Connor’s bed. His white t-shirt has a hole in the neck, and you feel a sudden surge of fondness, wanting to look after him.

You come up behind him.

“You’re going to be late for work…”

He gives you a startled look.

“I’m not sure that I’m going. Connor’s still sick.”

You bend down, looking at the little boy who looks back at you with solemn chocolate eyes, in that moment he is the exact image of his father.

His nose is running, but he doesn’t feel warm, and you remember how quickly he turned from whining to bubbly when you took him for ice cream. He is holding John’s hand and pouting.

You turn to John. “I think he might just be wanting his Dad to stay home today.”

You turn back to the toddler with a bright smile. “Hey Connor…I heard that Teddy wants to throw a picnic for all the other toys, you want to come help him with it?”

Connor looks torn, between you and his father, the choice ticking over in his head. Then he nods, climbing out of bed and grabbing his teddy behind him.

John lets out a sigh of relief. “thanks…I’ve got a really important meeting.”

“Go!” You shoo him out of the room, and sit with Connor downstairs filling teacups with imaginary tea.

John comes back down the stairs in a rush, his usual neat hair slightly wild. “Maybe I should stay home just in case…”

You shake you head. “Sorry. Barbie ate the last cupcake so we don’t have enough for you.”

John frowns and for a moment you are a little worried he is annoyed but then he feigns a whine. “No fair Barbie! I’m going to have to go without breakfast now.”

Connor runs up to his Dad, pressing an imaginary item into his hand. John plays along and very seriously accepts it into his palm as his son whispers. “Don’t worry Papa, I saved you one.”

“You’re the best.” replies John, hugging him tight, then looking over his head at you.

You have watched the scene, feeling your guard slip, and the fondness creep into your eyes. Now when John looks at you, he catches the look in your eyes and it sets him wondering.

He mouths ‘Call me later’ to you, before banging the door behind him, telling himself your soft gaze was focused on his son alone. You’re old enough to be her father John, he scolds himself.

You and Connor play happily until lunchtime, but you start to worry when he won’t touch his food, and sits on the sofa listlessly. You bite your lip and fret a bit, taking his temperature which you find a little raised. You try and call John but it goes straight to voicemail. When Connor tells you his tummy hurts, you take a deep breath, and decide to take him to the clinic.

You leave a message for John on the way, trying to keep your voice calm, hoping you are overreacting, but when the doctor sees Connor your fear rises at the muttered conversations going on behind the desk. You grip your chair, trying not to leap up and scream at them to tell you what the hell is going on.

Eventually they come and inform you they want to admit him and you almost pass out.

You check your phone again to see if John got your message, nothing.

You leave one again. Knowing he will freak out you keep it short, giving him just the hospital information and the rough diagnosis they gave you - an infection.

You sit in the hallway outside his room while they run tests. You check your phone for the 100th time and finally see a message from John.

I’m on my way.

You run to the bathroom and throw up your breakfast. When you look at yourself in the mirror you see you look like shit, hair plastered to your face with sweat, your t-shirt stained and dirty. You wonder for a moment who you think you’re kidding to think John would ever look at you. From Connor’s curls you guess his mother had been a beauty, probably some cool and seductive corporate type, who seduced John with her high heels and power suits. In comparison he must see you as a kid, a stupid one at that, who put his child in danger.

When you emerge, you see him there, talking to the Doctor in a low earnest voice. You rush up to him but then stop, remembering your place.

If you look like shit then John looks worse. His face is ashen, and worry lines mar his forehead. He comes towards you, and for a moment you think he is going to embrace you, but his arms hang limp by his sides, and you hug yourself instead.

“The Doctor says he’s responding to the antibiotics…” he says, by way of greeting, and you feel relief flood over you, making you a little light headed.

John sees it and takes your arm to sit you down in the waiting area chairs. “I’ve been in to see him…he’s going to be all right y/n”

You tip your head back against the wall, blinking back tears you are too proud to let fall. “I….I was so worried.”

John looks at you thoughtfully “I know.”

You wait then, wait for him to tell you off like he has every right to, but you are so sorry to lose his good opinion, you dread it more than anything.

John frowns at you “Hey…you’re shaking….I said it’s going to be okay…”

“I know I just….I told you to go to work…I thought he would be fine.”

John shakes his head “You thought I would be angry at you?”

You nod, feeling the tears brimming dangerous in your eyes.

“No! No….I’m so, so grateful that you brought him straight here. You know how many people would have left it longer? You didn’t…and I can’t thank you enough.”

Thank you? You are stunned at his reaction. “I could see he wasn’t right…”

“Yes…you could, because you know him, and you took the time to notice.”

You blink, rubbing at your eyes and telling yourself to get a grip. John is way too close, his handsome face swimming in your vision, his familiar smell seeping into your nostrils. You want to bury your face in his neck and cry your heart out.

John looks away, and the moment passes. “You should get yourself home y/n, I think I’m going to stay here through the night.”

You feel a panic rising again at the thought of leaving either of them. “Would you mind…I mean…would it be okay if I stayed too? I can sleep on the chairs out here.”

John stares at you, and you see various emotions flit over his face before he nods. “Of course you can. Why don’t we go to the canteen for a break, you really look like you need one.”

You self consciously push the hair back off your face. “I know I look a mess.”

“You look beautiful.” says John, in such a quiet voice you think you imagined it, before striding off on long legs, and you rush to follow.


	6. Crybaby

_A real man shows his feelings_

_Tears they can be healing_

_And I can be your saviour tonight_

\- Paloma Faith, Crybaby

—————-

Neither of you feel like eating so you order two cups of coffee and sit together at a table, sipping in silence.

You feel dazed, exhausted from the days events, and want nothing more than to lean against John’s strong side and have him give you comfort in the best way possible.

But when you glance at him he has his head down, shoulders shaking with quiet tears. You gasp, and without thinking you reach up to stroke his dark hair and he looks at you sharply.

You look back at him steadily, refusing to be pushed away when he needs you.

“John….you said yourself…he’s all right…”

You see him attempting to pull himself together and before your rational mind can kick in your throw your arms around his wide shoulders and try to cuddle the mountain of a man before you.

You feel John freeze in your arms, then relax, moving so you are holding each other more equally, his arms moving on your back and making you shiver when his hands brush your nape. You cling on for dear life and try to ignore the arousal that sparks in your gut.

John hugs you for about as long as he dares. Knowing his vulnerability made you offer the gesture towards him, and not wanting to take advantage. Still, he can’t help but inhale the scent of your hair that lays to temptingly near his nose, it smells of fresh air and vitality.

He can see the sun-brought freckles where you shirt falls off your shoulder and he has to bite his own lip to the point of pain not to press his open mouth against your skin and taste it.

He pulls back, and you gaze into his eyes, using the moment to get a full deep look into their beautiful amber depths.

“Sorry….” John says “He’s all I have you see…”

You tilt your head and nod in sympathy. You could have more, you want to say, but something, mostly a fear of rejection, stops you.

You sit back in your own chair, suddenly aware that he probably was close enough to smell you, and you know you’re a little ripe. “I wish I had a change of clothes here…I’ve panicked my way through this shirt…”

John’s eyes run over your top, lingering on your breasts. “I have a spare shirt in my bag…”

He roots around then hands it to you, a black button down of course.

You take it gratefully. “I won’t be long…”

“I’ll wait.” John is grateful for the chance to gather himself, he can’t believe he cried in front of you, but somehow, he doesn’t feel ashamed, he feels a little liberated. You reacted so maturely he is impressed, almost proud, and it really doesn’t help reduce his attraction one bit, in fact, it has fanned the flames of it even higher.

You come walking back into the cafeteria, John’s black shirt so long down to your knees that it covers your shorts underneath. You look like you are wearing his shirt and nothing else.

John’s mouth goes dry and he stands up abruptly, moving to you and ushering you out of the room. You blink in puzzlement at him but let yourself be herded.

“Does it look that bad?” You ask, thinking he is embarrassed to be seen with you.

John scoffs. “No. It’s just there was an old timer in there on his last legs and if he saw you looking like that I think it’d be the death of him.”

“JOHN!” you say, outraged, your lips tugging into a smile despite yourself.

He gives you an ironic look. “You know you look like sin, don’t play.”

As soon as he says the words his mouth shuts tight like a steel trap. “I’m…so sorry…that was over the line…I’m just…overtired…I don’t know what I’m saying.”

“Oh.”

Disappointment floods your body, you thought you’d got through to him finally.

“Don’t worry about it John, honestly, we both need to get some rest. Today was a shit-show.”

John snorts at your words, his panic at offending you and being inappropriate fading somewhat.

He opens the door to Connor’s room, sitting down beside the curly headed boy, gazing at him with protective eyes. You watch from the doorway, then shut the door on the scene, leaving them to their privacy. You curl up on one of the very uncomfortable chairs and close your eyes, trying to calm your beating heart and fall asleep.


	7. Slow hands

_Fingertips puttin’ on a show_   
_Got me now and I can’t say no_   
_Wanna be with you all alone_   
_Take me home, take me home_

\- Slow Hands, Niall Horan

——————-

You wake with the touch of a large hand on your shoulder. John stands over you with impossibly gentle eyes.

“Come on…they’ve discharged Connor…we can go home…”

Home. You forget to remind him in that moment, that your home and his are two different destinations.

You follow him in a daze, watching the lights flash past the window as John drives the three of you back to his house. Connor is dozing in his car seat, his little cheeks rosy with health rather than fever, but you still feel tense and watchful, fidgeting in your seat.

John glances to you. “Something wrong?”

“No….it’s just…sleeping on those chairs…made my back hurt.”

As you exit the car you roll your shoulders, trying to ease the ache and John watches you thoughtfully.

“I’ll put Connor to bed…then I know something that could help…”

He leaves you with those words, your mind reeling at what he could mean. Your nerves jangle, and you move to the kitchen, reaching on tiptoes to lift down the bottle of bourbon John has stashed away.

You’re just pouring two glasses when John enters the kitchen.

“He went out like a light…hey. You found my secret supply.”

You worry he’ll be mad but he smiles, moving near and lifting one of the glasses you poured, clinking it to yours in a ‘cheers’.

“Wait, are you old enough to drink this?”

You glare at him and then John chuckles “It’s a joke…you need to relax…”

You sip your drink, wincing a bit at the strong taste, you’re more used to cocktails, but it warms you from the inside out, and it reminds you of the man in front of you. Dark but golden, sweet but with a bite.

“I wish I could…that’s the problem.”

John frowns and puts down his glass, moving behind you.

“I learnt some things…in my job….may I?” he leans in, trying to see your eyes.

You nod a bit too eagerly and he places his hands on your shoulders. You jump a little, still on edge, but he leaves them there a few moments while you get used to the sensation of being touched, the heat from his hands soaking into your joints and warming them.

“What like…some kind of corporate massage for sitting at a desk all day?”

“Something like that….”

John traces a finger down the nape of your neck, moving your hair out the way, finding your spine, then pressing down with strong fingers, kneading the muscles either side. You let out a breath, but it’s hard to get the full effect, your clothing is in the way, you want to feel his hands on your skin.

“I suppose it might help…”

He hums in response, his mouth suddenly near your ear and you suppress a whimper.

“It would probably be better if you were lying down…”

“So then…I can do that…and…would you mind if I take your shirt off? It’s kinda too big…”

“I noticed…” John chuckles, his cheeks pink.

You move to the sofa, not daring to look at him. You’re getting exactly what you want, his hands on your body, and you can hardly believe it was this easy. You unbutton the shirt and push it off your shoulders before lying down on the soft couch with a sigh.

John watches your every move with fascination. Even the way your fingers unbutton the shirt seems designed to torture him, and now he’s faced with the expanse of your bare skin, waiting for his touch, he almost loses his nerve.

You look back, a little worried you’ve put him off somehow. “John…I really do think it would help me feel better…”

He nods, taking a few deep breaths to pull himself together then kneeling beside you, moving his hands on your back, sliding them down to your waist then back up.

You let out a little moan just to let him know. “It feels nice…”

John feels like he is on fire, your skin is hot, and it moves under his hands, supple and lithe. It’s like silk against his fingers, and he stores every touch away in his memory for later. For all he knows, this is the first and last time he’ll get to touch you like this.

He finds a knot at your shoulder and bears down on it. You wince in pleasurable pain.

“Sorry…” he rumbles in your ear and you clench your teeth.

“I didn’t know I was so tense…”

“You had a lot of stress today…” John sweeps his large hands back down to your waist and you flinch.

“Sensitive spot?” he asks.

“I’m ticklish…” you say, burying your face in the sofa cushions to stifle a giggle.

John smiles fondly, tracing the lightest of feather touches over your tailbone and you push down further into the cushions, trying to get away but not really wanting to. “Fuck…”

He raises a dark eyebrow to hear you swear, still torturing you with barely there caresses.

“Don’t talk like that in front of my child do you?”

You yelp and turn around to catch his dark eyes, your face hot from burrowing into the couch.

“Of course I don’t.”

“I’m kidding…” he says, but his smile has turned into something different, noticing how you’ve stayed under his hands even if you’re overwhelmed with sensation , it’s intriguing, he wonders how else he could push your boundaries, if he ever had the chance.

“You’re sensitive…” he says, in a low voice.

“Yeah well…” you reply, somewhat defensively, feeling exposed under his knowing gaze “you’re good at this….”

“Age and experience honey…” he smirks and you huff.

“Hey…I’m good at it too actually…should pay you back….I bet you’re all stiff as well…”

“You have no idea…” John murmurs under his breath. He can feel himself, hard against his jeans, and he’s wondering how long he has before you turn over and see what a state he’s really in.

He sighs, knowing his time is up, warming his hands one last time on your back before handing you his shirt. You pull it on, giving him a puzzled look.

“You know, when I go for a massage it usually lasts longer..”

“You’re paying for that…this is an employee benefit…”

Truth is, you’d pay him to touch you for hours.

You let his shirt hang open and unbuttoned, sitting up and motioning him to sit next to you. John moves a little slowly, grabbing a cushion and holding it in his lap.

You allow yourself a moment of glee, but pretend you don’t notice.

“Thank you….really…but next time..I want the full works…candles…music…oil…”

John looks a little alarmed “I don’t know if that is…appropriate..”

“Oh and this was?” You feel bad about it, but you have to call him on his bullshit, neither of you can pretend what just happened was innocent on either side.

John looks down, then back up, his dark fringe falling in his eyes. “You’re right. I shouldn’t have. Can you forgive me?”

“John!” you say, somewhat exasperated, taking one of his large hands in yours.

“I pushed you into it…please don’t feel bad…I don’t want things to be awkward between us. Being here…in your home with Connor means a lot to me…”

John stares down at your hands holding his, then moves catlike quick to circle your wrist with his fingers.

You swallow hard, avoiding his eyes, your gaze somewhere around his beard. You see flecks of silver in it, making him somehow even more attractive to you.

John speaks, fast and breathless, he wants to get the words out before his nerve fails him.

“I’m going to say this tonight, cause we’ve both had one hell of a day, and we’re both one bourbon down. I’m getting to the point where I don’t know how we managed before you came…”

You shake your head, it’s too much. “It’s my job John.”

“Fine then.” he says, squeezing your wrist lightly, making your head spin dizzily. “I’m saying it as me, John, not ‘Mr Wick’ your employer. I’m…glad you’ve come, you’re worth your weight in gold.”

He clears his throat. “Now I’m going to bed before I do…or say something we’ll both regret in the morning. You can stay here or I’ll call you a cab?”

“I better go home…”

You don’t want to, but you know if you stay in his house you won’t be able to stop yourself creeping into his bed, and you’re not sure he wants that.

He walks you to the door and watches you go. The lights of the cab casting you in silhouette and making you look like an angel with a halo.

But you’re a devil to him, if only you knew, how you haunted his dreams that night.


	8. Bell, book and candle

_White horses on a troubled sea, yo_ _ur smile will flash through time_

_Up ahead a blackbirds wing, y_ _our hair will come to mind_

_Every time I see your face, w_ _hen I have to pray_

_I need a bell, book and candle, t_ _o keep your ghost away_

-Bell, book and candle - Eddi Reader

\---------

John sleeps heavily, his dreams so vivid they seem real. He has you, under his hands again, on the couch. But this time, he kisses down the length of your spine, unclasping your bra and turning you over in his arms. Your face is warm with want, and when he kisses you, his name falls from your lips like a prayer. He touches you, and you’re wet, sighing against him and pleading with him to take you.

He listens to you begging him for a few moments, revelling in it, pushing you to the point where you’re promising every wicked thing under the sun if he will just fuck you, before he finally lets himself get what he wants, pushing inside your warm tightness with a groan…

…Ring ring…

John curses out loud and grabs the phone, voice groggy from sleep, pushing at his morning wood to make it go away.

“Yeah?”

“Jesus John, were you sleeping? I’ve never known you to sleep in…”

“Aurelio…” John scrubs a large hand over his face “what time is it?”

“It’s nearly ten, I’m guessing you’re missing work today.”

“Shit!” John leaps up

“Don’t worry…” says Aurelio, calm. “I doubt anyone would dare give you any trouble about it.”

“It’s not that…I meant to call the nanny and let her know she could have a late start…we had a hell of night…”

“Oh really?” John can hear Aurelio’s smug smile through the phone.

“Not like that…Connor was sick…”

“Is he better now?” Aurelio’s voice turns serious, concerned.

“Yeah…he’s…” John glances into the boy’s room to find it empty, panicking a moment before he hears to sound of you and Connor playing downstairs. You must have let yourself in and got the boy up all on your own without waking him.

“He’s fine…”

“And how is the hot nanny?” Aurelio’s voice goes back to teasing.

John peeks down the stairs to see you are both okay, then walks back into his bedroom, shutting the door.

“Can I be honest? It’s a living nightmare. I’m so on edge around her…I keep making excuses to touch her. It’s not good my friend.”

Aurelio sighs “and there’s not a chance she could be the one to break your dry spell?”

“I can’t expect that. Firstly, she would never look at me in that way. Second, even if she did, I’m her employer, it’s wrong.”

“Then I guess you won’t mind that I set you up with a date tomorrow night then.”

“What?!” John thunders down the phone, outraged.

“Great.” replies Aurelio snarkily. “Her name is Sarah. You’ll meet her at Francino’s at 8pm, wear something other than black, and make an effort to smile, okay?”

John opens his mouth to protest but Aurelio has already hung up. He starts to call him back but he hears a loud shout from downstairs so goes to investigate, almost forgetting about the phone call.

You’re swinging Connor around high in the air and he is squealing with laughter, his chubby face pink with glee.

John attempts a frown, but his heart melts. “If he throws up on you don’t blame me.”

You set Connor down, who promptly tugs at your skirt for ‘more’ but you shake your head.

“You’ll still not completely better…we’re taking it careful, aren’t we Daddy?”

You turn to John, who, at the sound of that word from your mouth, has turned pale, all the blood rushing from his head to a destination much further south. Trying to hide his reaction from you, he contemplates throwing himself out of the window, or at the very least into an ice cold shower.

“Yeah…” he replies, voice hoarse, moving to the kitchen to make you both a coffee.

You blink a bit, leaving Connor to play, and follow him.

John glances up, having caught his breath and hidden his hard-on, he manages to smile at you. “You should have woken me…”

“You looked…so peaceful…”

It’s your turn to blush. Having let yourself in as usual in the morning and finding the house quiet, you had peeked into John’s room and seen him, dark hair ruffled, bearded face squashed against the pillow, letting out soft snores and sighs as he slept deeply. The covers pulled back just enough for you to see his bare chest, a line of dark hair running down it. You got to see what you suspected, that he is in amazing shape, muscles on his arms rounded and his chest toned, with just enough matured softness to make him achingly touchable.

You are in no doubt of how much you desire him. You just have to keep it hidden.

“I was having a good dream actually…” John chuckles softly to himself and you wonder what inspires his secret smile.

“But I wanted you to rest as well…” he continues, passing you the coffee cup which you take gratefully.

“I felt pretty rested after last night….you did help relax me John…”

“I’m glad.” he replies, and you both stand in the kitchen, staring at each other, until Connor runs in and disturbs the moment, demanding cereal.

You get it for him, urging him to eat some fruit as well, and John regretfully goes to get ready for work.

“I’ll see you tonight?” he says, reluctantly hanging by the door.

You sense it, and go to him. “Connor is himself again John. In fact he seems to have even more energy than ever. Please don’t worry.”

“I’m not.” he gives you a wide smile, which is just as startling as his dark, moody looks. It takes your breath away.

“I trust you.”

With that, he’s gone and you’re left gaping like an idiot after him.

——————-

John checks his phone throughout the day, but there are no panicked messages, just a couple from Aurelio informing him there is no backing out now, he’s promised to go on the date, and he wouldn’t stand up a lady would he?

John swears, Aurelio knows his weakness, his wish to be a gentleman and not be rude. He’s caught, but now he needs a babysitter.

It’ll be fine. He tells himself. Maybe this is a good thing, I’m moving on with my life. Y/N is a friend, an excellent nanny, that’s all.

The house is a picture of domestic calm when he returns. Connor has been running you ragged all day, then suddenly the hit with a wave of tiredness, he took himself to bed with little insistence from you, clutching his teddy, .

You take advantage of the quiet and lift out your book, making yourself a cup of tea and sitting by the window. You found an old candle in the back of one of the drawers, and light it, sending a warm glow up the wall, the summer rain starting to fall outside, it is cosy, and you snuggle into John’s armchair, content.

John is loathe to disturb you, so he stands in the doorway for a few moments taking in the scene. The candle sends flickers of light up your skin and into your hair as you bend over your book, your lip caught between your teeth in concentration. John feels winded, as if someone punched him in the stomach. The door bangs on its hinges but you do not jump, you simply look up and smile at him, your eyes as soft

“Hey….”

It takes every single ounce of control he’s ever cultivated not to run up to you and take you in his arms, but he manages it, walking faltering up to you instead and sitting opposite.

“What are you reading?”

You put your book down so you can give him your full attention.

“Jane Eyre. I’ve read it about ten times I think…but I love it every time.”

“I love it when you find a book like that.” John nods with understanding. “It’s like finding a piece of yourself written down.”

You smile, surprised that he understands, but pleased. “Yes….exactly. And it’s so romantic…makes me a little weepy.”

John frowns, his almond eyes running over your face for signs of tears but you smile and shake your head to reassure him.

“Don’t worry…I’m at the good part…Rochester is declaring his love for Jane. Of course he teases her about it a bit at first, pretends to be in love with someone else. But they are made for each other.”

“Shame that doesn’t happen in real life…” mutters John and you feel your heart drop a little, sad he doesn’t believe in soulmates.

“Anyway.” You say, wanting to break the soppy tone. “How was your day?”

John takes a breath “Actually…a bit eventful. I need to ask you a favour. Are you free tomorrow night?”

You feel a little dizzy, your stomach flipping. Is John asking you out? Your mind goes blank for an answer, but of course your heart is screaming yes, yes.

“I have a date, I was hoping you could look after Connor.” He goes on, and suddenly you feel stupid. Of course it isn’t you, you’re the nanny, a stupid girl who believes in Byronic heroes falling for plain governesses.

John sees your crestfallen expression, and wonders what he said wrong.

“I would let you have the day off in exchange of course, and pay you double for the evening.”

You hold up a hand to stop him, the thought that he thinks you’re upset about the money makes you feel sick.

“It’s fine John. I can do it…what time?” You keep your words clipped and formal. Since you’re just the nanny you’ll let him feel it.

John frowns “I need to be there at 8pm but…”

“I’ll be here at 7.30pm, you can’t leave a lady waiting.” You get up as fast as you can, grabbing your bag and shoving your jacket a little angrily inside.

John stands up abruptly to see you out but you’re already leaving, blowing the candle out as you go. John stands in the middle of the room, the smell of candle smoke in his nostrils, wondering what the hell just happened. He picks up the book you left behind and takes it to bed with him.

—————–

You’re fuming, but you can’t explain why. John simply asked you to change the hours of your work, and you agreed, you didn’t have to.

And yet

The thought of him going on a date. Of his soft brown eyes turned on another woman, talking about Connor in that adoring way he does, of him putting the moves on her, leaning in a little too close, lifting her chin to kiss her goodnight.

You have to go for a run to release some of your anguish, pounding your feet against the pavements, feeling your muscles burn and welcoming it. You hope the physical exertion will block of the insistent image of John’s mouth glistening wet with wine at his dinner, but it fails.

You know Connor will be in bed by the time you get to John’s so you buy yourself a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon to take with you, thinking you can bring yourself a little comfort that way. You realise you’ve left your copy of Jane Eyre at John’s house, so you figure you can spend the evening drowning yourself in Victorian romance and forget about real life for a while.


	9. Jealous

_‘Cause you’re too fuckin’ beautiful_  
And everybody wants a taste  
That’s why   
I still get jealous 

\- Nick Jonas, Jealous (remix)

\-----------

You wonder what John will be wearing, and almost want to dress provocatively to pay him back, but you figure, what’s the point, settling for an old Rolling Stones t-shirt, worn jeans and converse, pulling your hair into rough plaited pigtails.

Letting yourself in around quarter past 7 you call softly to let him know you’ve arrived. John appears at the top of the stairs and beckons you up. You set your wine bottle down the table and pad upstairs, already feeling your temper rising again.

He is stood in his bedroom surrounded by piles of discarded shirts and pants. You put a scowl on your face and cross your arms over your chest. You’ll help him get dressed to go and meet another woman over your dead body.

John comes up to you, his white dress shirt unbuttoned, his hair shaggy around his eyes, holding two ties up with an anguished expression on his face.

“Which one?”

You roll your eyes and kick your trainers against the carpet a bit, stalling.

He groans a bit in frustration “Look…Aurelio said I can’t wear black…I have no idea what goes with what….help me…please…”

You try to avoid his pleading eyes. “What happened to ‘hi’?”

John sighs, dropping his shoulders and looking at you properly then. “Hi. Thank you for coming. You look nice.”

You snort. “Don’t overdo it.”

You move into his room, a little breathless that you’re getting to room freely about his bedroom, and sift through some of the piles of clothes.

“Where is your…’date’…?” You grind out the last word as if it were a curse.

“Francinos…I guess it’s fancy…” John says, moving to try and fix his hair in the mirror.

“Yes, but I don’t think you need a tie. An open collar is more…”

Tantalizing, irresistible

“…friendly, on a first date.”

You hand him a forest green shirt, the material soft against your fingers you know it will cling against his muscles and show off his physique, and the colour will make his eyes look an even richer brown.

“Try this…”

John takes it, his face open and trusting and you turn away, partly to hide your reaction, and to give him privacy.

John watches the back of your head as he changes. You look adorable to him, and he takes the opportunity to stare while your back is turned. Your plaited hair has left baby strands of hair loose at your nape, your worn t-shirt hanging off your shoulders, your jeans tight on the curve of your butt. John feels his mouth watering just from looking and hurries to pull on the shirt.

“What do you think?”

You turn around a little cautious, and you’re right to be. John looks ridiculously handsome. You were right about the shirt, it makes his chest look even wider, his shoulders broader, it even makes him look younger, although you really don’t mind his age.

You move nearer to him before you can think what you’re doing, and fuss with his collar. You can see the bump of his collarbone peeking out, and you let your breath caress it, seeing as your lips cannot.

John looks down at you, a little puzzled, but pleased. “Will I do?”

“You’ll make her need new panties when she sees you John…” you murmur, and his eyes go wide, staring into your eyes, then trailing down your face to fix on your mouth.

“You really shouldn’t be speaking to me like that…”

You really shouldn’t be dating another woman you want to scream, but you can’t, so instead, you settle for goading him.

“You can’t handle it? A little dirty talk from a girl half your age?”

“It’s not appropriate.” John falls back on his old excuse, the rest of his brain cells having ceased to function with you so close.

“I’m just trying to get you excited for your date..” You say, eyes dark and moody, pouting a little aggressively.

John sees it of course, his eyes haven’t moved an inch off your mouth in the past minute.

“I’m….just going as a favour to a friend…I really don’t want to go…”

You process this new information, your eyes flicking up to his, which he heroically manages to pull away from your lips to meet your gaze.

“You….should…” Stay, please stay. “Go. Give it a chance…who knows…you could meet someone special.”

John frowns, and moves backwards, lifting his watch and fastening it on his wrist.

“Or at the very least you could get laid…” you mutter, a little spiteful.

His dark head shoots up and you fidget a bit under his intense gaze.

“You don’t know anything about my personal life y/n and I suggest we keep it that way.”

“Fine. Then don’t ask me to help you” you growl at him, knowing you’re being childish, and stomp out of his room and downstairs.

You wait, pouring yourself a glass of wine. You can hear John moving around upstairs, finishing getting ready. You can’t see your book anywhere so you flick on the TV, keeping the volume low out of consideration for Connor sleeping upstairs.

You’re sulking on the couch, watching some reality TV trash and sipping your wine, when John walks down the stairs and stands before you.

He looks achingly gorgeous, tall and mysterious, but with an anxiety around his eyes you’ve come to recognise. He stands with his hands palms outward, as if for your approval.

“You look good.” you say grumpily over your wine glass.

John raises a dark eyebrow, moving to sit beside you on the couch for a moment, knocking your feet off the coffee table with a tap of his hand on your ankle.

“I’m fucking nervous y/n. I haven’t been on a date in years.”

He looks so concerned your frustration at him melts, and you smile at him apologetically.

“Just be yourself.”

“My friend Aurelio advised me to do the exact opposite of that.”

“Well he’s not a woman is he? I am, and I’m telling you, you’re charming, fascinating….sexy…just as you are…” your words falter a bit, you wonder if you’re saying too much, but you want him to know how you see him, how special he is.

John absorbs your words, then leans back against the couch cushions, breathing hard, as if he’s fighting some internal conflict.

He closes his eyes before he speaks, knowing he can’t look at you, watching him with those large eyes, those pink lips, saying such things about him, it’s too much, he feels he might die.

“Thank you…I know you’re trying to build my confidence.”

You have no idea why he won’t look at you, thinking it must be some pre-date ritual, so you settle for squeezing his hand, stroking the soft skin between his thumb and forefinger.

John’s eyes flick open, his expression has changed, and for a moment, it’s like being observed by a deadly predator. You freeze in response, and by instinct, tilt your chin up to him, submitting to the alpha.

John reaches out, and you think he’s going to touch your face. You long for it, holding your breath, watching him under your lashes. But he moves his hand at the last moment before it reaches your skin, tugging at one of your pigtails, painting a benign smile over his look of hunger.

“This is a cute look…”

You eye him sceptically, letting him know it’s too late, you’ve caught a glimpse of what lies beneath his composure, the untamed side, and rather than being afraid, you are captivated.

His watch beeps an alarm, time to go. John seizes at the excuse like a drowning man on a rock.

“Like you said, I can’t keep a lady waiting. I won’t be back late. Don’t drink too much.”

You clench your fists in frustration, but he does touch you then, his finger bops your nose, cutely scolding, and you curse yourself for smiling in response.

You watch him leave, feeling your heart wrench, unsaid words on the tip of your tongue.


	10. Bad at love

_I’m bad at love, but you can’t blame me for trying_

\- Halsey, Bad at love

\----------

Susan, or Sarah, John may keep forgetting her name, is standing outside the restaurant when he pulls up in his Mustang.

He greets her as enthusiastically as he can, his head still back at home with you. You looked so small and forlorn on the couch when he left, he hates himself for leaving you alone. He wanted nothing more than to press you back into the sofa cushions and kiss your wine stained mouth until all the issues keeping you apart were forgotten in a haze of lust.

He wishes he’d cupped your face in his hands and kissed you until you were breathless, until you looked at him again with that expression he’d seen on your face but didn’t dare acknowledge. That look that seems to promise you would let him do anything to you…that you were his.

Sarah…or Susan…is giving him a weird look, so John gives her a fake smile and holds open the door for her. She barely acknowledges his gesture, moving straight to the podium and demanding your table.

John frowns a bit at the rudeness but decides to give her the benefit of the doubt, settling in the booth with her and looking at her properly for the first time.

She is closer to his age, which is good, and is wearing a suit jacket and sensible navy blouse. Her hair is neat without a wisp out of place, and her mouth is slicked with dark lipstick.

John can’t help feeling a little disappointed.

Still, he promised Aurelio he would give it a try, and when the waiter comes he orders the most expensive bottle of red they have. His date purses her lips.

“I don’t drink red wine.”

“Oh, sorry…” John rubs a hand over his face. The waiter has already opened the bottle, so there’s no going back.

His date shrugs, and John makes small talk as best he can until the food arrives.

The awkward silence is broken when a toy elephant lands on the table near his glass and John picks it up with a puzzled expression.

A small girl, with rosy cheeks that remind him of Connor, and mischievous eyes that remind him of y/n runs up to his chair.

“‘’m sorry…can I have dumbo back? She likes to fly…”

John flaps the elephants ears and has her ‘fly’ back to the little girl. “Here…”

The little girl runs off and John chuckles to himself at the encounter.

His date makes a displeased noise in her throat and John glances back to her.

“Is there something wrong with your food?”

“No.” Susan/Sandra replies. “I just hate children.”

Politeness be fucked, John knows he has to get out of there as fast as possible.

————–

You stare at the TV screen after John leaves, and to your shame, you feel tears pricking at your eyes. You grab the remote and screen goes dark, you will not sit and wallow while he is out wining and dining some…hussy..

Where did you leave your book? You set about searching, throwing cushions in the air and even searching the kitchen drawers to no avail.

You give up, and pad upstairs softly to check on Connor, who is still sleeping soundly, his little fists clenched at his sides. Walking past, you see that John’s room looks trashed, he has left his clothes in a mess all over the floor. You sigh, and move inside, hanging a few of his shirts back in the wardrobe, just so they won’t get needlessly creased.

His night stand is littered with objects, silver cuff-links, a comb, that stuff he puts in his hair. You pick up the bottle of his cologne and inhale, his familiar smell suddenly assaults your senses, and you put it down with a shiver.

You tidy his room until it looks more welcoming, feeling like a chump as you smooth his bed covers. The man is out with another woman and you’re fussing round him like some idiot. You swear you’re never like this over guys, normally making them trail at your heels drooling and begging for your time. But with John, it’s different, he makes you act irrationally, he makes you needy, makes you want to a better person, so that he might realise you’re the one for him.

Your fingers touch something hard under his cover and your hand closes around your copy of Jane Eyre. You don’t know how it got into John’s bed. You pick it up and look at it with confusion, wishing it could tell you the secret formula, so you could end up there yourself.

You carry it back downstairs and resume reading, a little calmer now you have something to occupy your mind. Your bottle of wine goes down easily, and you don’t notice the hours passing until John’s key turns in the door and you are startled back into reality.

John moves inside, and you’d almost forgotten how good looking he was, having him standing there, so real and solid, after you’ve been lost in a fantasy world, is alarming. He holds up a hand to stop you rising and grabs a glass from the kitchen, sitting down beside you and filling it almost to the brim with wine. He refills your glass without asking and you sip quietly, tasting the difference between your supermarket bottle and his much more expensive one.

“How was your….evening?” you croak, afraid to ask but acting nonchalant.

“Disastrous.” answers John, and you try not to do a little happy dance in your seat. You compose your face into one of serious concern.

“Oh…no…what happened?”

“It just…didn’t go well. We weren’t suited.”

“Oh?” You lean forward then, interested to know what kind of woman John would like. “Not your type?”

John darts a look at you “No. “

Well so much for getting information out of him. You sip your wine, his choice is classic, well rounded and bursts with freshness in your mouth and you moan a bit.

“Wow…this wine is amazing.”

John snorts, and you miss the joke. “I know. I fucking know, right?”

He puts his feet on the coffee table and you giggle, he must be getting a bit tipsy to be doing that.

You lean into his side, giggling a bit more as the mood infects him, his chest shaking with deep chuckles.

“Oh John…you had a bad date…shit happens…”

He splutters, looking down at you with mirthful eyes “Hey….don’t mock me…at least I tried…”

“Hmm….I’d rather you didn’t.” you say before your brain catches up with your mouth and you hope he didn’t hear.

Of course he did, the man has the ears of a spy.

“And why is that?” he asks, laughter suddenly contained, his eyes soft and curious.

“I just meant…you could have stayed here with me…had some wine…you could tell me how you liked my book.”

John looks guilty then, caught out. “Sorry, I got into it and forgot to tell you I borrowed it.”

“Stole it.” You correct and he protests.

“Hardly. It was in my house.”

“So that means it’s yours? I don’t think that’s how things work.”

John looks at you, your eyes shining and a bit unfocused from alcohol, your mouth stained red with the wine.

“I wish it was.”

You sigh and drop your head to his shoulder, resting it there, taking advantage of the fact you’re both a bit tipsy to steal some contact with his body.

“It’s a shame it went so badly John.” you murmur, into his shoulder “cause this shirt looks really good on you..”

John moves a bit so his arm is along the back of the sofa, and you inch a bit closer. You’re almost in his arms and it’s tantalisingly. When he turns his head, you’re close enough to see the golden flecks in his eyes, the long smooth line of his nose, the fine hairs that grace his top lip. You lick your lips reflexively.

He’s so warm, inviting. The wine has made you soft, and you long to move nearer and feel his strong arms envelop you. John, for his part, is holding his breath, seeing you so close him with such an open, delicate look on your face. He dares to move his hand to caress your back, having already touched your bare skin there, he feels like it’s not pushing things too far.

A shiver runs through you and you throw your pride to the wind, cuddling into his side and burrowing your face in his chest. John lets out an audible breath, holding you there like you’re precious, and kissing the top of your head.

“John…” you whimper, with desire soaked voice. “This is….too much for me…”

The chemistry between you has turned the air electric. You want him, and it’s killing you.

John doesn’t dare think you mean what he hopes you mean by ‘too much’. You look up at him with a tortured expression and he reaches down, rubbing at your cheek with a gentle thumb.

“You can tell me anything y/n…you know that?”

You nod, you trust him absolutely, but you cannot risk him throwing you out of his house and out of his life, it would break your heart.

“I know but it’s complicated. It’s too late for a serious talk, can we put it on hold for now?”

“Of course…whatever you need.” John watches you with concerned eyes as you sit up and try to regain your composure.

“I need my bed, John….” you say, gathering your things to go.

“Goodnight…”

You both stand up, and you sleepily go to kiss his cheek. John turns his head at the same time, clumsiness caused by the wine, and your lips catch his in the lightest, ghost of a kiss.

Your mouth tingles as his lips touch yours. He tastes like wine, deep and rich. It feels just how you imagined, forbidden and intense, making you feel alive like never before. It’s over as fast as it happened, so soft and brief you wonder if it even happened at all.

Still, the reaction is chemical, and intense. A bolt of lust runs straight from your lips to your stomach and you almost stumble against him.

John grabs your arms to steady you, feeling dizzy himself. Excuses forming in his head. He’s drunk, it’s late. But he knows the truth, his body sought out what his mind tells him he can’t have, selfishly seeking what the primal side of him is yelling and beating its chest for, to feel your lips against his.

“Sorry…” he whispers, his mouth still close to yours. You share a few breaths, and the air crackles.“That was an accident”. He presses a kiss to your cheek in apology and suddenly you feel angry.

You fist a hand in his shirt as if to pull him back towards you, but instead push him away.

You know you could kiss him again, and he would let you, maybe he’d even kiss you back, but soon enough those protests would be spilling from his lips and he would stop you, telling you it was ‘inappropriate, blah blah blah’ and you don’t think you could handle the rejection right now.

“Better keep your distance then.” you fire at him, sinking your own dreams with one sentence.

John steps back, his eyes wounded. “Y/N….”

You do not slam the door. Even in your desire driven rage your remember the little boy upstairs. You just really don’t want to look at his father right now.

John watches you storm away in dismay. If Connor wasn’t in the house he would have run after you, made you tell him what you were thinking, what you were feeling. Claimed your mouth finally in a proper kiss. The barely there brush of his lips against yours have given him a taste of what could be, and now he has tasted the forbidden fruit, he wants to swallow it whole.


	11. Shiver

_So I look in your direction_   
_But you pay me no attention, do you_   
_I know you don’t listen to me_   
_‘Cause you say you see straight through me, don’t you_

-Shiver, Coldplay

\-----------

The summer gives a bite to your misery. You cannot lay inside, burrowed in a blanket, your head in a book with a cup of hot chocolate and feeling sorry for yourself like you want to. You have to be outside in a floaty dress, pretending everything is fine, watching John throwing a small ball to Connor and yelling into the fresh warm air, his fists punching the sky, when his son catches it.

You sit on the grass, feeling it tickle your bare legs, the sun on your head making your dizzy. John is wearing a navy tank top that shows off the muscles in his arms, and old jeans, a rip in them so close to the crotch it’s indecent. When he comes near, grinning with pride and imploring you to watch Connor pass the ball back to him, you can see the freckles blooming on his cheeks, his dark eyes a light amber.

You sigh and pitch yourself onto your front, flicking lazily through a magazine. You don’t really have to be here. John has taken a day off to be with Connor, but he didn’t tell you not to come, so you showed up, an unspoken agreement formed between the two of you that the fact you’re not strictly needed will not be discussed.

Just like that accidental kiss. Neither you nor John has mentioned it since it happened. And you think anyway, what did happen? A mistaken brush of lips when you’d both had too much wine? It lasted a second, but you replay it over and over again in your mind. His mouth so soft on yours, the slight prickle of his facial hair against your skin. It wasn’t so much the kiss, but the feeling behind it, gentle on the surface only, molten rock covering the heat underneath.

You have to admit it, it turned your tiny crush on your employer into a full blown obsession. You watch John covertly as you lie on your stomach, throwing your legs up and tangling your ankles together, the picture of nonchalance. John, for his part, glances back to you every now and again, too many times to be casual. He goes to put Connor down for a nap out of the sun, then sits beside you, his long legs crossed. His feet are bare and you can’t resist reaching out and poking his toe. John rewards you with a quizzical smile. Somehow, even his feet are sexy.

“Did you see Connor with the ball?” he asked again in a deep, excited voice full of love and you duck your head to nod before managing to look at him.

“Yeah. He’s a real jock, just like his dad.”

John gives a loud chuckle at that. “Hardly.”

“You’re good at everything John. It’s highly annoying.”

He raises a dark eyebrow “annoy you do I? I am sorry…but I’m also paying your wages, so I’m not that sorry.” he smirks, and you poke your tongue out him.

John’s eyes shoot to your mouth, but you carry on pretending not to notice.

“So what have you got planned for today?” You ask, a little formally, as the lazy, almost possessive look in his eyes flicks along your skin like flames, hotter than the sun. “Going on any more dates?”

John shrugs, moving to lie on the grass on his back beside you, looking up at the cloudless summer sky. You prop yourself up on your elbows to see his face, and he glances down the curve of your back to where your bare legs twist in the sunshine.

He doesn’t want to talk right now, just wants to reach out and touch your skin, see if it is as warm as it looks. He imagines pulling you onto his chest and claiming your mouth with eager kisses, imagines the sounds you would make with his tongue in your mouth and his hands pulling your body flush to his.

“The sun makes me dozy…” he admits, to excuse the dreaminess in his eyes. “And no, no dates…Aurelio will be disappointed.”

“Why was he so keen to set you up?” you ask, feeling your jealousy spark again.

John huffs “It’s not really appropriate for me to say.”

You roll your eyes “Not this again. Didn’t we establish I’m not Mary Poppins? I’m not a child John, you can talk to me about adult things.” You take a deep breath, barrelling on. “Aurelio thinks you need to get some sex, right?”

John covers his face with his hands “Arghh god…stop this is so embarrassing.”

You gently tug one of his large hands away “It’s not. You’re a single dad, it’s quite normal.”

“I can’t talk about this with you.” John states firmly, his cheeks a rosy shade of red.

“You know there are places you can go…” you continue, as if he hadn’t spoken. “Strip clubs, burlesque, whatever takes your fancy.”

John peeks out at you from behind his other hand “You uh…you sound like you know what you’re talking about.”

“Sorry to disappoint you but I’m not a exotic dancer.” you say, and John has a brief fantasy of you dancing for him in next to nothing, moving into his lap and grinding down.

You can see his eyes have gone hazy and try to bring the conversation back on track. “I just meant…it might help with some of the tension…or something like that…”

“Okay, I appreciate the concern but this is a weird thing to be talking about with you. Besides, aren’t those places a bit sleazy?”

He’d much prefer a private show…

“It was just a suggestion.” You pout a bit. You wanted to steer him away from trying to meet a woman, but have failed.

“Well I do have this work…thing at the end of the month, maybe I could meet someone there. You should come with me…”

“Me? I don’t think that’s such a good idea John…”

“Why not?” he asks, warming to his idea, fidgeting with excitement, he rolls on his side to look at you, his face close to yours.

“I work for you…” you use his own argument back at him and he scowls.

“So then, as your boss I’m telling you, come with me.”

“My job is to look after Connor, John, not be victim to your every whim.”

John tries not to think what he would ask you to do if that were true.

“Please? I don’t have anyone else, it’ll shut Aurelio up and you can be my wing-woman.”

“What a treat for me” You say sarcastically.

“Honestly it’ll be fun, free food, free drinks, dancing?”

You look sceptical, but his puppy dog eyes are irresistible. “If you don’t find someone you’d rather take before then, fine.”

John nods, but he knows the possibilities of that happening are almost impossible.

“Good. Wow, you’re a tough chick huh? Take a lot of convincing.”

You smile, seeing him in such a playful, bantering mood and dare to hope it is a sign that he is happy. He lays on his back, chest wide, his chin tipped back and his eyes drifting shut. He looks relaxed, and you flip over to position yourself the same way, your shoulder pressing against his.

John looks sideways at you, plucking a piece of grass from the ground and tickling it against your neck. You jump a bit in shock and he smiles widely.

“John! Quit it, what are you five years old?”

John does not quit, but strokes the blade of grass down your neck to your collarbone, pausing there, then brushing it over where the top of your dress barely hides your breasts.

“John….” your voice has gone breathy, staying as still as possible, not showing if you want him to stop or carry on. It’s torture.

He slides it back up to your face, stroking your cheek with the green tip, then moves it to your mouth, tracing the outline like he did with his finger in the ice cream parlour.

“We should talk about what happened…” he murmurs, staring at your lips, the memory coming vividly back to him of what they felt like, pressed against his, if only for a moment.

He drops the grass, and leans over you, suddenly and urgently. You gaze up at him, touching his beard fondly. He has trimmed it back for summer, and you can feel his warm skin break through under your fingertips.

You want to call him baby, you want to whimper his name, but you simply caress his face and hope he knows what you mean.

“What happened?

“That’s not funny y/n.”

“We talked about it John. it was an accident, like you said.”

John watches you, and you know he can detect the bullshit.

“Then why did you storm off so fast?”

“I was just a bit taken aback…I didn’t expect to…for it to feel like that…”

“What do you mean?” John is urgently scanning your face then, searching for answers.

“It was….it felt…it was a lovely kiss John…” you whisper.

“Trust me, that was nothing..” John replies heatedly. “If I kissed you for real you’d know about it.”

“Same to you.” You fire back. “I was kissing you as my employer, I don’t want you to think I’m like that kissing my lovers…”

“You have lovers?” John growls a bit.

You lift your chin in the air, wanting to give John a taste of his own medicine. “You think I wouldn’t?”

He stares at you “I think you’d probably have a line of them round the block.”

You laugh gently then. “Not exactly. I do okay though, you don’t need to worry.”

John grinds his teeth, the images of several dumb, model looking boys, much younger than himself, all lining up to date you fill his head.

“Yeah well, just be careful. You don’t want to end up with a kid.” His jealousy is making him cruel, but as your face falls he realises, he does not enjoy hurting you.

You sit up, suddenly seeing red. “Even if I did…if it was anything like Connor it wouldn’t be the worst thing at all!” You’re passionate, and John almost flinches away.

“You should stop giving out advice that really don’t take for yourself.” you throw at him and he holds up his hand to stop the argument.

“Woah…I know…you’re right…I’m sorry.”

You sulk, avoiding his eyes. Then you feel a long finger on your jaw, turning your head to look back at him. John’s face is serious and contrite.

“I really am sorry. About…everything…”

You nod, your breath held tight in your chest, he’s still touching you. “You regret kissing me…even by mistake.”

“No. Never. But I know it would be impossible between us…”

You smile sadly, talking in hypotheticals to stay safe “Imagine if were together though…how would that be?”

John lets out a a breath “You would lose patience with me, you’re so full of life and youth…”

“You are not dead yet, John.” you reply. “I can see the vitality in you.”

He looks at you curiously, hopefully. All your words are true. He may be older than you but the way he moves…kinetic energy held still within him, ready to burst forth at the right moment. His strong, sure hands speak of an experienced and considerate lover, his stern and bossy side intrigues you. You think he would try to take control in bed, but might let you walk all over him everywhere else.

“It’s you who would get sick of me, John. I can be brat y’know?”

“Oh I bet…” John chuckles, looking at you fondly, moving his finger from your chin to your bottom lip, caressing it lightly. “You pout when you don’t get your own way”

“What else…don’t you like about me?” You ask, a little hurt but trying to be brave.

“I didn’t say I didn’t like it.” corrects John, but he ponders to answer your question and your ego takes a bruising.

“You eat too much junk food…” he tries, desperately searching his mind for something he doesn’t like about you. “You read so much that I think you’re a little out of touch with reality…and you throw yourself into your work so much you seem to neglect having a personal life of your own.”

Look who’s talking you think, but you’re so busy trying not to pout in response words fail you.

“Oh…”

John sees your sad eyes and shakes his head urgently “None of that stuff really matters to me though…”

“I don’t want to hear any more John.” you say stiffly. “I get it.”

John swears, seeing he has put his foot in it. He wish he could explain that all those things make him like you even more, despite himself. That he’s becoming crazy over you, like a schoolboy with a crush, and he’s trying everything to push you away before someone gets hurt.

You move to stand up and he grabs your arm gently “Hey…no…wait…you can…say the things you don’t like about me?”

You shake your head “I don’t think that’s a very good idea right now. I’m not looking to get fired.”

His face falls and you sigh. “I’m not mad John, okay? I’m just going to check on Connor…”

“All right…” he lets you go, and watching you trip over the grass and back inside the house, your hips swaying temptingly. John bites his lip. Fuck. Why’d he have to go and say all that shit anyway?

You lied. You are a little mad at him. Hearing a list of criticisms from the mouth of someone you respect as much as John has affected you more than you’d like to admit. You’re used to boys rhapsodising over how perfect you are, although that does get incredibly boring after a while, and does seem fake, like they take the time to tell you endlessly how pretty you are, but don’t bother to get to know you, to see the real details of who you are.

You sigh. Maybe you needed to hear it after all. You feel silly for getting upset at him, for not taking it better. You go to Connor’s room and sit near his bed, stroking his dark curls, more for your own comfort than anything else.

John appears at the doorway, watching you. “Can we talk?” he implores in a soft voice.

You shake your head but get up, walking towards him. You pat him on the chest and look up into his dark eyes.

“I thought of one thing I don’t like about you John, you care too much about doing the right thing.”

And, leaving him with that to digest, you walk home in the sunshine, deciding you deserve the afternoon off, and if John has a problem with it, he can let you know.


	12. Lay all your love on me

_Cause everything is new_   
_And everything is you_   
_And all I’ve learned has overturned_   
_What can I do?_

-Lay all your love on me, ABBA

\------------

An invitation arrives through your letterbox a week later. It’s been an uneventful week other than that, yourself and John on good, if distant terms, circling each other, trying to avoid being alone together. You feel the walls between you rebuilding, but your attachment to him and Connor is growing by the day, and you sense something similar on their side.

The envelope lying on your mat seems to contradict John’s apparent disinterest. The paper is thick, expensive, the writing on it sleek black calligraphy.

You are invited to a ball hosted by Winston’s Insurance Brokers, guest of Mr John Wick.

Anxiety and excitement curl in your stomach. You never realised John’s ‘work thing’ was something so fancy. A quick glance in your closet shows you there is nothing there to match the elegant formality of the invitation, you’ll have to go shopping.

You have a crazy thought, wondering if John would come with you, then you dismiss it from your mind and head to the shops alone.

The dress is green, emerald almost, satin soft, it clings to your figure like a glove. The price tag takes your breath away, thinking of your bank balance. You imagine John’s face when he sees you and hand over your credit card.

You do not remove the tag until the day of the ball, thinking John will have found someone else to take before then, and, anxious and expecting to be let down, you call him.

He answers with a low rumble and you smile, his voice is alluring, but the fact you know the man behind it makes you feel fond, as well as aroused.

He tells you steadily he will pick you up at 7pm.

“But who will look after Connor?” you say in a panic.

“Don’t worry…I got a babysitter..”

“You what?!” you try not to yell and John sighs.

“Relax…it’s for one night only..”

You grumble, wanting to check this ‘babysitters’ qualifications, but John knows you too well, telling you he’s going to pick you up, so you won’t get a chance to interrogate the interloper.

You hurry to get ready, having not tempted fate before, you pull on the silky gown, feeling unlike yourself, more exotic, almost seductive. The dress is low cut and leaves your shoulders bare so you grab a wrap for later in the evening. You pin up your hair and put on lipstick, you even put on heels, knowing John is so tall you need a few extra inches if you’re going to dance with him. And I hope I do…you think, excitement bringing a flush to your cheeks and a shine to your eyes.

John picks you up in his Mustang, beeping the horn, making you roll your eyes as you get into the passenger seat.

“You’re supposed to walk up the path and politely knock at my door, John.”

“Well…this isn’t a date..” he mutters, his eyes running over you methodically, like he is cataloguing your every feature.

“But you look…”

“Yes?”

John sighs and his grip on the steering wheel tightens.

“It’s a nice dress.”

You feel slightly disappointed, you wanted him to be stunned, effusive in his compliments, but then you consider, that’s just not John.

You arrive at the venue and park and you get to take in John’s appearance. He is wearing a well tailored dark suit, but rather than his usual black shirt he’s wearing a crisp white one with a black bow tie. His hair is soft around his face rather than gelled back. He looks soft but handsome, familiar but so unreachable, it makes your head spin.

As you walk in, on his arm, you hope you’re imagining the way people turn and stare at you both, their eyes wide, and gossiping behind their hands. You cling onto John’s arm feeling self-conscious and he glances to you.

“Don’t worry…they’re just not used to seeing me with anyone…”

A short, dark haired, smiling man walks up to you.

“Whoa…John…now I get it. It would almost be worth having children to get myself such a pretty nanny. Hi…I’m Aurelio…” he offers his hand and you shake it, not sure how to take his comment.

But John snorts and slaps him on the back, admonishing but not offended, so you let yourself grin back as well.

“Pleased to meet you Aurelio…”

“I’ll go get us a drink..” murmurs John and disappears with his friend.

“Now I understand why you never called Sarah for a second date…” chuckles Aurelio and John shakes his head in despair.

——

You hug yourself a bit, watching them walk off. You notice the lustful glances the women directed at John when he walks by, who is of course oblivious. You look around the room. Everyone seems to look rather peculiar for insurance brokers.

A man with tightly curled dark hair and piercing eyes sees you alone and approaches you.

“My dear you made quite the entrance…on the arm of John Wick no less.”

You blink at him, your lashes long with their mascara coating and his smile deepens.

“But forgive me…you are the one people should be looking at. You are quite something.”

He moves near and offers his hand to you which you take reluctantly.

“Santino D`Antonio…”

You awkwardly supply your own name and attempt remove your hand from his grasp, but the man brings it to his lips instead, kissing your wrist.

“It’s a pleasure principessa”

—–

John takes two glasses of champagne from the bar and makes his way back to you. As the crowd parts he sees you and Santino, talking close together in low voices. His heart beats against his rib-cage and he has to bite his cheek not to just throw the glasses down and rush over to you. Instead he takes a deep breath, and puts on a fake smile, moving behind the smaller man with the deadly, quiet steps of an assassin.

“Can’t leave you alone for one minute can I?” he says to you.

You see his smile, but also the tightness in his jaw, the anxiety around his eyes and you can tell these two do not get along.

Santino looks round in shock “John! I was just saying hello to your lovely date here..”

“I’m not his date.” you interrupt. “I’m his nanny.”

Santino looks stunned and John half glares at you, but he struggles to hide his pride at your sassy tone, which has managed to put both himself and Santino in check.

“I’ll take that…” you say, grabbing one of the champagne flutes from John’s hand, and, seeing Aurelio walking by, you move to chat to him.

John stares after you, then moves his gaze to Santino, his smile fading. Santino watches you go as well and sensing John’s eyes on him, he tilts his head, leering at your departing figure.

“Let me know how much you pay her John and I’ll double it…I could use a girl like that…”

John struggles to keep his voice calm. “You don’t need to be speaking about her…or to her.”

Santino raises an eyebrow “Oh no? Maybe I’ll just take her into the cloakroom then and see what’s underneath that pretty dress.”

John growls a warning, stepping closer and Santino smirks “Oh come on Jonathan…I know that’s what you really want to do. You’re just pretending to be the civilised man as per usual.”

“I’m don’t want to start a fight Santino…I suggest you leave so I don’t have to.”

“A little old for her aren’t you? Or is this some kind of sugar daddy thing?”

John scoffs in disgust and walks away.

You’ve questioned Aurelio relentlessly about the atmosphere between John and Mr ‘D`Antonio’ but all Aurelio will say is ‘they don’t get on’. John comes striding towards you and you drain your glass, he looks mad.

John grasps your wrist where Santino kissed it “Come on…let’s dance…”

You’re a little stunned, thrusting your empty champagne glass to Aurelio who grins at you both as John guides you onto the dance floor.

You look up at John, seeing his dark eyes still swirling with rage.

“Y’know, I was hoping you’d ask me to dance in a bit more of a gentlemanly manner, John.”

John grips your waist in his large hands, his teeth gritted “It was either this or Santino’s teeth ending up on the floor, which would you prefer?”

You frown, but the feeling of his hands on you is clouding your brain with lust, and your annoyance at his rough ways is fading.

“I….why did you want to punch him?”

John looks down at you then, properly for the first time, and his anger clears a bit “He was talking about you…in a disgusting way..”

“Oh….” you reply, intrigued more than offended. “How strange. You didn’t react to how I look at all.”

John narrows his eyes “If you’re trying to get me to react you’ve been successful. And, for the record, if it isn’t fucking obvious, I think you look gorgeous.”

You feel yourself blushing, but try to concentrate on the music, sliding your arms around John’s neck. He holds you tighter, closer, pressing his cheek against yours which still burns from his forceful compliment.

“Did you set him straight? That I’m here just as a favour?”

“Not really.” admits John a little bashfully “I thought if he thinks we’re together he’ll leave you alone.”

“John!” you say, a little outraged. John mumbles an apology, moving one hand from your waist to your bare back, and you can feel the electric current running up your spine.

“John…” you repeat, a lot more breathlessly, struggling to meet his gaze which has turned dark. Everything in him in screaming to claim you, and he settles for putting his hands on your skin, wishing they would leave a brand to show everyone that you are his.

“Did you…want him?” he asks, holding his breath. The air between you seems heated, the rest of room shrunk away until you are the only two in it.

“I’m not looking for…” the excuses die on your tongue at you catch John’s eye. “No. I don’t want him.”

I want you….you want to scream. You would kiss him right then, right in front of all friends and colleagues, who you are growing more and more suspicious are not insurance brokers. But the last thing you want to do is show him up.

“So….are their any women here you like?” you question, keeping your voice neutral and remembering what is supposed to be your function for the evening.

John doesn’t take his eyes off your face for a second. “Did you see everyone’s faces when we walked in?”

You frown a bit at him avoiding the question “Yes…they were all staring at you.”

John shakes his head, laughing but his eyes sad “No. They were looking at you. I’ve been such an idiot y/n. I thought I liked you because I was lonely…because you were so good with Connor. But now I’ve realised I’m having…very inappropriate feelings…”

You bite your lip, not being able to believe his words and John groans a bit, bending his head close to yours.

“Don’t do that…it makes me want to kiss you…”

“I want you to…” you whisper it so quietly, almost hoping he won’t hear. But of course he does, and he turns you in his arms to head off the dance floor.

“Not here…”

You both head for the exit as fast as you can. Your limbs are propelled by pure, eager anticipation. John shoots you a heated look, promising all kinds of delights and you shiver once you’re outside, but not from the cold air.

“I’ll get your wrap..”

You watch him go, his broad shoulders, his graceful limbs, now rushing as fast as he can to get you both out of here…so you can….

Your brain short circuits when you try to think of what would come next. You start down the steps, trying to remember where John parked the car, and run right into Santino, smoking on the steps, looking malevolent.

“Principessa! Leaving so soon? We barely got to know each other…”

John appears with your shawl, and you instinctively turn towards his strong chest. Santino’s eyes flick between the two of you knowingly.

“I don’t blame you John…the party’s better at home, right?”

John wraps an arm around your shoulders protectively, speaking in a low, warning voice. “Goodnight Santino.”

The other man’s face falls, seeing John cannot be riled, and he leans in to whisper in his ear.

“Profuma di paradiso…I’d love to taste her…”

Then he pitches forward, placing an assertive kiss on your cheek and you recoil.

You hardly see John’s fist move at all, just see Santino falling back against the concrete with a crunch, before John grabs your hand and you both flee the scene.

John drives likes a maniac, but you somehow still feel safe.

“John….stop…let me see your hand…” you can tell he’s hurt, but he hardly seems to feel it, glancing to you in surprise.

“I was trying to get us home as fast as possible…” he says, eyes a little vulnerable, so you nod and smile encouragingly, as he pulls up on your driveway.

“I know…come inside…” You wonder what the hell Santino said to get him so wound up.

John follows you like a puppy, close behind as you turn your key in the lock. You can feel his breath on your nape, and he slides his arms around your waist, kissing your neck.

You moan and almost fall through the door as it opens. He catches you easily and you turn around in his grasp, brushing your lips on his as lightly as you did the first time you kissed, only this time, it is definitely on purpose.

John captures your face in his hands and kisses you back, hard and desperate. He pries your lips apart with his tongue and pushes it insistently against yours. He tastes like dark chocolate and champagne bubbles and you whimper in your throat at the never-ending onslaught of his mouth. It seems like now he’s got the chance to kiss you for real he won’t stop.

You open your eyes, needing to beg him to let you breathe, and see his knuckles near your cheek, red and bleeding. You part from his desperate kisses and take his hand, leading him to sit down.

“I’m fine…” he pants, trying to catch his breath and you survey him with satisfaction, noting his lust blown pupils, his hair sticking up everywhere, his mouth red with your lipstick.

“Shush. I’m going to take care of you.”

You bring back cotton wool and bathe his knuckles, standing between his spread thighs as he sits in the kitchen chair. John takes the opportunity to touch you, running his other hand over your hair, pinching your earlobe gently which makes you squeak. He trails soft yet calloused fingertips over your bare shoulders and you drop the first aid kit back on the table and fall into his lap.

John moves his arms to hold you there, claiming your mouth again, not seeming satisfied until you’re just as breathless as he is. He is ravenous, like a man half dead with starvation, faced suddenly with his favourite meal. It’s all you can do to cling onto his broad shoulders and let him ravage your mouth with passionate kisses, his lips and teeth clashing against yours.

John tips you back in his arms until you’re looking up at him, you can see he is fighting to gain some self-control over himself, but it is proving to be a challenge.

“I’m pretty sure we should talk before we do anything else…”

His cheeks are pink and he looks like he hates himself for having to stop kissing you to speak.

“Yes…we should…” you move your hand to his bow-tie, undoing it and flicking open his top button. The sliver of skin at his neck is tantalising, and you want to see more.

John gently holds your wrist to stop you. “Y/n…..”

You give him a rebellious look and lean up to kiss his neck. John lets out an unearthly groan, tipping his head back and letting you. You smile against his skin, tasting the thrill of your sexual power over him.

John waits till you take a breath then pets your mouth with his thumb.

“I don’t want to hurt you….” you know he means it in several ways, his honour is still there, hidden under a haze of desire, and it makes you want him even more.

You lick his thumb then bite it between your teeth. John swears and other his hand grips your thigh where the slit of your dress exposes your leg. You dangle precariously, almost falling off his lap but not giving in as he pushes his thumb into your mouth, brushing your tongue then pulling it out with a pop.

“Do you remember that first day we met?” John asks, his voice raspy with want, “that fucking lollipop in your mouth? You little temptress”

You try to laugh but you’re too warm, pressing your forehead to his and almost pleading with him to stop, but also to keep talking. “I wanted to tempt you…you were the most attractive Dad I ever saw…”

John chuckles, but it is tinged with pain, he knows he’s doomed now, doomed to die of wanting until you quench his thirsty desire.

He groans in his throat, gripping you tightly until you feel swallowed up in his arms.

“I have to get back home…for Connor…”

“Oh….” you sigh, but nod, knowing this is the price you pay for wanting John, he comes with very adorable baggage, but there are complications none the less, and you’ll never be number one on his list of priorities.

John runs his mouth over your bare shoulder, breathing in your scent. Santino’s words echo in his head and he thinks fuck that guy, but he was right, you do smell like heaven.

“Come with me?” he implores, dark eyes hesitant but brimming with need, and how could you refuse?

————-

A/N all the Italian here is down to the wonderful and incomparable @thatlittlered, thank you for your help, patience and inspiration!


	13. Back to reality

_Back to life, back to the present time,_   
_back from a fantasy._   
_Yeah Tell me now, take the initiative,_   
_I’ll leave it in your hands until you’re ready._

\- Back to Life, Soul II Soul

\-----------

John has your hand in his, his beard tickling your neck as he whispers in your ear everything he wants to do to you. You’re both giggling like mad as you fall through the front door, to see the babysitter standing there with his arms crossed.

“I was wondering how long you’d be!” he says, with a huff.

John drops your hand, his smile instantly turning to serious and concerned. “Is something wrong?”

“He wouldn’t settle…” the babysitter starts, falling silent at John’s death-glare. John bounds up the stairs three at a time to check on Connor. You follow a respectful distanced behind.

Connor is sat up in bed, his little cheeks red and damp with tears. He cries out when he sees John, “Papa!”

John hurries to him and cuddles the boy against his chest. Connor sniffles into his shirt. “You were gone…”

“I’m sorry…” says John with real regret and you watch from the doorway, deciding to let them have some privacy.

Connor spots you and calls out your name. John glances to you. “Y/n….come…please..”

He beckons you close and you move to sit with them, a little hesitant, not wanting to disturb the moment.

John talks low and calmly to his son “She’s here little buddy..we’re both here…”

John takes your arm and pulls you near, the two of you holding Connor between you. John hugs you both and looks at you, relieved that everything is okay.

“You stay here I’ll tell the babysitter to go home…” he says softly, going downstairs.

You reach for Connor’s favourite book, Where the Wild things Are and start to read to him.

“The night Max wore his wolf suit and made mischief of one kind and another his mother called him “WILD THING!” and Max said “I’LL EAT YOU UP!” so he was sent to bed without eating anything….”

Connor’s eyes drift shut and he is asleep in your arms by the time you’ve finished the first page. When you look up, John in standing watching you.

“Time for bed” he whispers and you tuck Connor in.

John takes your hand again and you start to feel a nervous excitement build in your stomach as he leads you into his bedroom. When you turn to look at him, you can see he is exhausted, and you realise you feel the same, the evening’s events starting to take their toll.

John gives a large, bearlike yawn. “Just give me five minutes…then we’ll get to all the hot sex.”

He falls on the bed heavily, and you smile, approaching the other side.

“Sure…the hot sex will happen..any minute now.”

You catch each other’s tired eyes and descend into laughter.

“Okay…maybe not tonight. I just need to get out of this outfit.”

You sit down on the edge of the mattress to take off your heels and John moves lightning quick behind you.

“Let me help..?”

You give him a quizzical look, but you’re so tired you happily place your foot into his hands to let him undo the strap of your shoes. John holds your foot gently, bending to kiss your ankle and despite your exhaustion you shiver, smiling up at him with heated cheeks.

John moves to grab your other foot, the heel dragging against his thigh and you can see the outline of his erection pressing against his trousers.

“What?” You ask, almost giggling, but hardly being able to tear your eyes away.

John shrugs “You have nice feet…I noticed…”

You do laugh then and push his shoulder, but you file the information away for another time.

You place your heels carefully by the bedside table and turn, moving your hair aside, your back to John. “Can you help me get out of this dress?”

“Gladly.” John replies, taking the opportunity to run his fingers lightly over your skin before undoing the zip of your dress, sighing with wistful longing.

“Or I could make us some espresso…then we could carry on?”

You turn and see him gazing at you, tired but hungry, and you kiss him, a little too roughly for not wanting to start anything. You pull back and he is breathing hard, self restraint evident in his body language. You know you’d rather wait until you both are rested, but it’s difficult when he’s right there in front of you.

“Sorry.” you say, pressing your forehead against his for a moment. “Have you got something I can sleep in?”

John doesn’t bother trying to convince you to sleep naked, knowing he wouldn’t be able to rest if you were, so hands you a soft t-shirt of his own and you pull it on.

He throws his bow tie on the dresser, hangs his suit jacket and trousers up, and begins to unbutton his shirt.

You stare. His thighs are thick, covered in dark hair down to his feet which are still clad in black socks. You smile fondly at the sight, then run your eyes back up. John stands with his shirt half unbuttoned, white boxers visible underneath. He is still half hard, and he is looking at you with disbelief.

You stand up and help him undress, pushing the shirt off his shoulders and baring his chest which is broad and muscular . You can’t resist placing your palms on his waist, wanting to touch that warm skin which you see is covered in scars. You frown a bit to see them, and John puts a finger under your chin to lift it, to make you look into his eyes instead.

“Are you sure you know what you’re getting into with me?”

You gaze back at him “I never felt so sure about something in my life.”

John almost whimpers, kissing you gently but with an intensity that you feel down to your soul. He buries his face in your neck and inhales deeply. You stand there, clinging onto him, letting him do what he needs, but soon you both fall back onto the bed. John pulls the covers up and you cuddle against his chest until you fall asleep, the last thing you hear is John’s soft snoring in your ear, and he doesn’t let go of you all night.


	14. Bed

_Got a bed, wit’ your name on it_

\- Bed, Nicki Minaj ft. Ariana Grande

\----------

You wake up with a solid warm man behind you, John has no understanding of personal space, spooning you, his arms holding you so tight you can barely move. You push back against him and he lets out a deep moan into your ear.

You can tell it’s early, sunlight is only just starting to peek through the curtains. You turn in his arms with some difficulty, and dark eyes open a crack to survey you. John re-positions himself so you are pressed together, touching almost from head to toe.

He kisses you, not seeming to care about morning breath at all, pushing his tongue into your mouth and running long dexterous fingers down your chest, lifting his shirt you’re wearing to touch the bare skin of your waist, brushing the curve of your butt and pulling you closer against him.

You sigh against his lips. You can’t believe this is happening. One minute you thought you might die from pining after him, the next it has turned out he wants you back, it feels like a dream. You nip at his bottom lip to prove it is real and John gives a complaining groan, opening his eyes properly to look at you questioningly.

“Mornin’….” he says, a little grumpily and you smile affectionately, slinging your leg up over his thigh to get even closer. You brush against his morning erection and he mutters something too low for you to hear.

“What did you say, John?” you ask.

“I said…I dreamed of this…”

“Oh….” the information shorts your brain a bit, the thought of John lying in bed thinking about you. You remember your own daydreams and murmur back

“Me too…”

John grabs your leg, keeping you wedged against him, and runs his hand up your thigh teasingly slow until he reaches the edge of your underwear. You feel him take a deep breath before his fingers caress the lace, almost reverently.

“You thought…about me? Some old grumpy guy…your employer?”

“The sexiest man I’ve ever met….your…experience..your age John…it only makes me want you more…”

“You want me?” he murmurs back, blinking a bit as reality settles in. “I did hope…I mean I know what happened last night..but I thought maybe you’d had too much champagne….”

“I had one glass John.” you confirm, shaking your head. You don’t understand why he can’t comprehend how attractive he is to you.

“I can’t wait any longer…I need you…” John whispers then, his brown eyes gentle but urgent.

“I’m ready…” you say, sitting up just enough to pull the shirt over your head and return to his eager arms.

John rolls you onto your back and gazes down at you with adoring dark eyes. You’re a little embarrassed, but also thrilled by the way he looks at you, and squirm against the mattress as he kisses down your stomach.

“You’re beautiful…” he confirms, and it doesn’t sound like just charming words, it sounds like the truth.

John hums as he kisses the inside of your thighs “I could do this all day…but we don’t have long…”

“John….you can see how much I want you from there can’t you?” you say, blushing but knowing he can probably both see and smell the evidence of your arousal from his position between your legs.

John lets out a growl, pulling down your damp underwear and throwing it over his shoulder

“You’re going to be the end of me….but I’m fine with it…”

He delves long fingers into your wetness and bites his lip at the feeling.

“God….y/n…you’re so…warm…tight…around my fingers”

He’s pretty sure you’ll strangle his cock but he is eager for it.

“Are you….I mean…shall I?”

You blink at him, your mind fuzzy from him touching you, but you understand what he is asking.

“I’m on birth control John…”

He breathes a sigh of relief, and you feel endlessly fond that even in the heat of this moment he is responsible.

John takes it steady, moving inside you, and you close your eyes for a moment, overwhelmed with sensation and emotion. Still, you want to show him, you might be younger, but you know what you want. You spread your legs wider, inviting him in.

“Yes…John…feels good..” you pant encouragingly, and he pushes deeper, giving you a grateful look, cupping your face and stealing a few kisses.

John tries to keep it tender, but something about the open, trusting look on your face, and the feeling of being inside you, after so long without sex, after so long without good sex, sends him wild.

He moves into you at a quick and desperate pace and you realise you need it too. The weeks together of wanting him and not being able to touch him have been enough foreplay, and right now, you want to feel him. He’s big and you can tell you’re going to remember it afterwards, but still you hear yourself pleading with him to go faster, to use you harder. You can’t believe he brings out such a side of you, but he does, .

John brings his hand to your throat and you almost pass out from pleasure.

John grabs you and flips you both over so that you’re straddling him. You squeak in surprise then the vixen in you adapts quickly. Seeing as though you now have control you slow your movements, savouring the stretch and burn as you circle your hips, letting him slip almost out of you before fucking yourself back on his cock.

John is sweating, holding onto you for dear life, his eyes nearly rolling back into his head at your movements. The mirror on his dresser reflects the sinful picture of you riding him, and John catches sight of your reflection, dizzy with the chance to see you from all angles.

“Do you see how you look? How you look fucking me little girl?”

You glance into the mirror, seeing the curve of your back as you move over him, his dark eyes reflected back to you as he keeps murmuring encouragement in a ragged, lust strained voice.

“So good….so perfect….Jesus…I never had anything like you before…”

You clench around him, his words of praise sending you hurtling towards the edge.

He grips your hips to control you, taking your orgasm captive until he deems to release it and you hear yourself begging.

Suddenly you’re on your back again, and, desperate for more connection you grasp John’s larger hands in yours as he continues to move inside you. He entwines your fingers together and squeezes your hands reassuringly. So gentle and urgent at the same time. You tip your head back into the pillow and let out a loud scream, which John tries to stifle with his mouth.

At the moment, you don’t care if you wake up the whole neighbourhood, you feel like you’re being ripped apart. John watches you reach your climax, struggling to hold back his own, but forcing himself to keep his eyes open to watch one of the most beautiful things he thinks he has ever seen. Then the feeling of you pulsing around him, knowing he did that to you, is too much and he comes with a groan, flopping down beside you so not to crush you with his weight.

You curl at his side, happy and sated but knowing already that you want more.


	15. Will you still love me tomorrow?

_Is this a lasting treasure_  
 _Or just a moment’s pleasure_  
 _Can I believe the magic in your sighs_  
Will you still love me tomorrow? - Amy Winehouse

\--------------

You hear Connor stirring in his room and sit up, searching for your clothes to go and help him. John holds your arm gently to stop you, and you glance up at him.

His dark eyes have turned to warm amber, his previously tense shoulders soft and relaxed and he smiles at you almost shyly.

“I’ll go. You rest.”

You shrug, falling back into the soft covers with a satisfied sigh. “You’re the boss.”

John gives you a heated glare and pulls on a navy robe, moving to Connor’s room. You watch him go, then look around the room, the trail of yours and John’s lovemaking is strewn around the floor. Your knickers have landed on his lamp and you blush, tidying up a bit, but not dressing yourself just yet, revelling in the feeling of standing naked in John’s bedroom.

You move and look at yourself in the mirror. Your hair is a messy bird’s nest, there are tiny red marks from John’s eager nips over your chest and your eyes are shining with happiness. You press your hand to your thigh and feel it damp with the evidence of yours and John’s combined pleasure.

You’ve never felt so real, and your skin tingles with the ghost of his touch even as you move to the shower to clean yourself up.

You emerge, and having only your green ball gown to dress in, hunt through John’s dresser for something that will fit you. You settle for one of his buttoned shirts which is long enough to look almost like a dress, hoping you don’t look too much like you’re doing the walk of shame as you go downstairs.

John is giving Connor his breakfast, and pushes a warm cup of coffee into your hands like he always does in the morning. But this morning, it is accompanied with a secret smile, and a gaze that sweeps your from head to toe, bringing heat to his cheeks and a hunger to his eyes.

He guides you away from the boy, almost pushing you up against the wall and you go, gladly.

“The way you look in my shirt.” he breathes, his fingers digging into your arm pleasantly. “I may be old…but I’m about ready for round two on the kitchen table.”

“You’re not old John…” you say automatically. “Trust me…no old man could take me like you just did…”

John looks like he might pass out, leaning into you but at the same time keeping his distance, wary of Connor running around in the background.

“What are your plans today?” he asks, tidying up Connor’s breakfast things as the little boy runs off. You move to help him and John frowns a bit but allows it.

You go to the sink and fill it with bubbles, needing some distraction from the serious dark eyes of your employer who is watching your every move.

“I need to go home…get something to wear…”

John moves behind you, taking a towel to dry the clean dishes as you hand them to him. He is close, close enough for you to feel the electricity still running between you. Your night…well, morning of passion, hasn’t done much to dissipate it.

“We need to talk….about how things are between us…”

You sigh, fearing the formal tone of his voice, worried you’re either about to get fired or dumped. You feel tears springing to the corner of your eyes and drop a glass clumsily in the water.

John throws down the towel and places his hands on your shoulders. You pause in your washing up and take a deep breath. He kneads your muscles gently but firmly, and you remember how he gave you a massage before…before everything happened between you.

He leans in, sweeping your hair aside and kissing your cheek. “You look scared” he whispers.

“I am.” you reply, turning towards him with big, worried eyes and dripping hands. John takes a towel and dries you off.

“I’m not a one night stand person, Y/n. I only sleep with people I care about….”

You take a shaky breath in and out, trying to process his words.

“You care about me, John?” you smile then, fond and hopeful and he chuckles, shaking his head at that fact you ever doubted it.

“Of course, let’s not forget…I also want you like mad….” he cups your cheek with a large hand, bending to look right into your eyes and you blink a few times, feeling your body tense with arousal.

“I would like…to see where this goes…” he continues. “But I understand if you don’t want to be tied down to an old guy like me….”

“Shush….I thought we covered all that. You’re so….” you gesture towards him “actually there aren’t words for what you are…”

John frowns a bit, trying to understand you. “Don’t feel you can’t say no to me…I know this is an inappropriate balance of power…I’m paying your wages…I don’t know what to do about that side of it all.”

You whimper. The thought of losing Connor is like a dart of pain to your heart.

“Are you saying I can’t work for you anymore?”

John sighs “How can we…sleep together…” he pauses and your stomach flips over just at the sound of him saying the words. “And then act like everything is still the same?”

“No one else has to know John.” you say in a rush, grabbing his hand and holding it tight in yours. “I won’t tell…let’s just keep it between us for now and we’ll work out the details later.”

John lets your hold his hand, rubbing his thumb on the back of your knuckles.

“People will be able to tell. You already heard Santino…”

“Fuck Santino.” you say, quietly though, just in case Connor is nearby.

John smirks and moves closer to you “You’re such a bad girl…”

“You like it…” you retort, lifting your chin up and putting a brattish look in your eye.

John growls a bit in his throat, taking your chin in his thumb and forefinger and gazing down at your mouth with dark concentration.

“The things I want to do to you…you have no idea…”

You try to hold his gaze but find it difficult, replying as confidently as you can.

“So tell me…”

John grabs you around the waist suddenly and moves you away from the sink to the counter top before placing you down so your butt rests on the edge. He slides his palms up your bare legs, lifting them you’re pressed against his hardening cock, then puts the other hand on your back to pull your even closer.

You feel his touch red hot and searing, looking up at him, trying to keep the game going.

“I don’t hear the things…”

John glares at you “One of the things is…I want to fuck you on this counter…while your hair looks that….all messy…while you’re wearing my clothes…after I’ve been walking around all morning half hard because of you…”

His voice is low and unrelenting, sending shocks down your skin and making you so wet you think he won’t be getting his shirt back in a hurry. John reads your mind and moves a hand to touch you, pushing the material of your underwear aside easily and giving you two smooth strokes before pulling in back in place.

“But my son is in the house so we can’t…no matter how delicious you are…” he murmurs, licking his finger into his mouth with a roguish look at you and it’s your turn to pout.

“Jonathan Wick you absolute tease. I should put you on a time out like I do with Connor.”

John chuckles, lifting you down from the counter and you see with satisfaction the outline of his erection pressing against his pajama bottoms. It makes your mouth water.

“Try it….” he retorts, and you blink, hurriedly moving your eyes back up to his face.

“Huh?”

“The time out…” he clarifies, but he’s caught you staring and it’s making the bulge grow even bigger.

“You think I wouldn’t?” you shoot back, hoping the banter will stop your urge to drop to your knees right there in the kitchen and take him in your mouth.

“I think you would die trying…” he says, but the smile on his face is wide.

You move to the sink and flick bubbles in his direction. John yelps and jumps out of way dramatically. You roll your eyes “Yeah…you’re really terrifying.”

John dodges round to grab the dish towel and thwacks it gently against your bare legs. You give out a little scream, then he repeats the action on your butt.

“John!” you say, outraged, but also a little turned on.

He grins at you, moving to take you in his arms, leaning down to kiss you, finally, when Connor runs in to the kitchen.

“Are you guys having a water fight?” he questions, eyes wide and excited.

John grabs a handful of bubbles and runs towards him “We are now…”

You giggle and join the fun, which ends with the kitchen floor a soaking mess, and the three of you a very damp but happy trio.

You drive home soon after, John’s shirt clinging to your skin as it dries in the sunshine. You hang up your green dress and look around. Everything looks the same, but you can sense, your life has changed forever.


	16. The other woman

_Do you wish I was a bit more like her?_  
\- Paloma Faith, Picking up the pieces

\----------

You miss John as soon as you leave and tell yourself off for it. You cannot get so attached, not knowing yet what this is going to turn into. John is so serious, understandably, as he has a kid, but you long to bring out the other side to him, to show him that life can be fun and not all responsibility.

You have responsibilities yourself, having committed to help a friend move house at the weekend you keep your promise, and spend two days shifting boxes. A thought runs through your head that with John’s help it would be done in one, his strong arms and shoulders would make short work of the task, but then again, he’d distract you so much that if he was there you might not get much moving done.

You leave her, set up with at least a kettle and mugs ready for tea, and really, what else does anyone need? And head home, exhausted. You check your phone for the first time all weekend and see a voicemail from John. You listen, hearing his voice low and cautious, as if he was unsure how to leave a message.

“Hi…uh…guess you’re busy…I just wanted to say…” there is a shriek from Connor in the background “sorry…we wanted to say, we miss you and were wondering if you..yes I’m asking her…” John sighs in frustration, and you can imagine him gripping the phone tightly. “If you wanted to come on an adventure with us tomorrow night…it’s a surprise so stop trying to guess. I’ll see you after work so bring a sweater if you want to come….nights are getting a bit chilly now.”

He’s such a dad, you think, but your face splits wide with your fond grin.

“Anyway…bye…and okay, okay…Connor says bye too…”

You hear the click as he hangs up and you run to shove a sweater into your bag so you don’t forget it, then lay awake most of night, eager to see your two favourite boys.

John has already left for work when you arrive at his house the next day, and Connor keeps putting his finger to his lips whenever you ask him what the plan is for the evening, John must have sworn him to secrecy. You giggle, seeing his father’s sternness in Connor’s big brown eyes, ruffle his curls and praise him. He looks concerned for a moment, then settles happily to his drawing. You stand and watch him, your heart aching a bit for the motherless child, you wonder how anyone could have abandoned him, but you also know that life sometimes deals bad cards, and you cannot judge anyone until you’ve been in their position.

There is a knock at the door and you are startled from your thoughts, moving to look through the peephole you see Santino D’Antonio, looking rather put out at being made to wait. You sigh and swing open the door.

“John’s not here…”

Santino’s frown turns into a charming smile when he sees you, thrusting a large bouquet of white lilies into your hands.

“I came to see you principessa…”

You hold the flowers but do not move off the mat to let him in, raising an eyebrow.

“I’m a bit busy Mr D’Antonio…watching Connor…”

He frowns, looking down at his hands which you notice are smaller than John’s and rather delicate.

“I wanted to apologise for the other night, but I’d rather not do so standing on the doorstep.”

Remembering John’s devotion to manners you sigh and step back, gesturing Santino to come inside. You drop the flowers on the table and turn with your arms crossed, not ready to let your guard down.

Santino has moved to Connor and lifted him into his arms, swinging him round a bit. This causes you come nearer, whether it was his intention or not, your concern for Connor is paramount. Still, Connor doesn’t seem too upset, laughing but then demanding to be put down.

Santino deposits him back on the carpet and you bite your lip and hug yourself a bit, not sure what he wants or why he is here. He stares at you openly a few moments.

“Cute…kid….”

You nod, feeling the protective lioness roaring to life inside you, John would be so proud.

“He is. His father’s son y’see…”

Santino snorts “I wouldn’t call John Wick ‘cute’.”

You let out an impatient breath. “You came to say something?”

Santinto turns the charm back on then “Sì. Will you forgive me for being so rude, spoiling your evening?”

You’re close enough now to see the faint bruise on his face where John hit him, and you wonder at the fact he’s saying sorry after that.

“You didn’t spoil it, I had a lovely evening.” a flash of John kissing you like he was dying enters your head and you flush a bit.

Santino of course doesn’t miss a thing. “I’m…glad. Still, I don’t want you to get the wrong impression. Myself and John, were friends not so long ago.”

You can see he is wanting to stay and talk, and you know you should offer him coffee, that’s what John would do, but you really don’t want this man in the house any longer than necessary.

“Then I’ll pass on your apology to him…” you move to Connor, standing between him and Santino, protectively caressing his curls.

Santino watches you. “I knew his mother you know?”

You freeze, feeling a rush of curiosity, not just for Connor’s sake but shamefully, your own. You are constantly plagued by the spectre of this woman, Connor’s mother, John’s former lover, and how you must measure up in comparison.

Santino smiles a reptilian smile, seeing he has used the right bait to catch your attention. “We were all three of us friends once…working together. Everyone was crazy for her, she was so beautiful..but of course..John was the one who got her in the end.”

“You were jealous.” you state, flatly, feeling nausea rising at his story.

“I am always jealous when someone else gets the things I want.” he stares at you intently, and you resist the urge to roll your eyes. Must be polite, you hear John’s voice ringing in your ears.

“Come work for me.” Santino changes tack, seeing he is losing you.

“You don’t have children…”

“No…” he replies a little wistfully, and for a moment you see the humanity in him, the vulnerability behind the facade of charm. He’d be a much better man if he let that out more.

“But I can see your potential….I will find you something to do…you cannot think of staying here forever y/n….it’s not a sustainable option. Connor will go to school and John…well he’s not one for domestic life…”

He is stating your fears out loud and you hate it, you almost want to put your hands over your ears like a child.

“I can look after myself Santino…but, thank you…for the concern…” you soften your words, giving him a chance to show the good side of himself.

Santino opens his mouth to protest more but then closes it, his vivid eyes gentle for a moment. “Please give my regards to Mr Wick, and if you change your mind, my card is with the flowers.”

He gives you a short nod and you walk him to the door. He lingers a moment, his eyes running over your face and you feel a tiny shiver that you’re not sure is fear or something else.

He brings his mouth close to your ear for a moment, talking quietly so Connor can’t hear “She was nothing like you…”

You shut the door firmly behind him and carry on with your day. You’re shaken up. Santino has placed a tempting tree of knowledge before you, the apples on it the truth about John’s former life. But unlike Eve you know you must resist his seductive whisperings, and trust that John will not betray you.


	17. Thinking 'bout you

_Or do you not think so far ahead?_   
_‘Cause I been thinkin’ 'bout forever_

Thinking ‘bout you- Frank Ocean

\-------------

By the time John comes home you’re in a bit of a state. Santino has fucked with your head, and Connor has refused to leave the house all day and you’re longing for fresh air. John rushes in the door, the usual mixture of cedarwood and patchouli assaults your senses and you breathe it in as if it were oxygen.

“Hi!” he grins at you, a rush of energy as he lifts Connor up and checks him over, doing the same with an extended dark eyed sweep which starts at your toes and ends at your hair which is messy as usual.

You open your mouth to talk to him but he beats you to it.

“Listen, do you mind if I go for a quick run? It’s been a crazy stressful day and I need to let off some steam.”

He thrusts Connor into your arms before you can suggest an alternative method.

“Oh…sure…no problem John.”

You watch him bound up the stairs to change then out the door without so much as a backward glance. You are warm with anger, letting Connor go outside to play and stalking around the house muttering under your breath.

John comes back after about 20 minutes, his grey t-shirt clinging to his torso with sweat, his hair damp. He grabs some water and swigs it, walking towards you with a swagger, a cocky smirk on his handsome face.

“Sorry….I didn’t say hello properly before.”

You raise your hands as if to push him away “John…stop…you’re all sweaty and gross…”

He sulks dramatically “I thought you’d like me like this…”

Truth is you do. His masculine scent is driving you crazy. You remember reading somewhere when you’re attracted to someone, the smell of their sweat is an aphrodisiac, and as John crowds closer he is proving it to be correct.

John places a hand on the wall behind you and looks down into your eyes. You feel the full 6”1 of him then, his shoulders looking even broader than normal, his cheeks flushed from exertion.

“I’ve been inside all day John…” you whine, knowing you sound unreasonable. “You don’t think about me…”.

He gives a short, dark laugh. “I don’t think about you? I’ve been thinking about you all day. Couldn’t get any fucking work done. Thing is, I had to go for a run..otherwise I would have grabbed you the moment I got home, and I knew I couldn’t.”

“Oh….” you reply, looking down a bit, feeling ashamed you thought the worst of him, and, he’s been thinking about you…”all day?”

“Yeah.” he says, voice still breathy from his run and eyes impossibly dark, focused on you alone.

He leans down, and kisses your earlobe, whispering there is a scratchy voice “all fucking day…”

You shiver and place your hands on his chest as if you push him away, but when you feel the heat of his body through his t-shirt you sigh, keeping your hands there and looking up at him dizzily.

John stares right back, a similar expression on his face. “When you touch me it drives me wild…” he whispers almost aggressively at you, mad at himself for his lack of control.

“John….” you stutter, hearing your own voice laced with desire. You lift your lips to his face, lick the sweat from his cheek. John gives a guttural moan and clenches his hands into fists, banging one on the wall behind your head.

You move your hand to lift his damp t-shirt slightly and graze your fingers over his side, your thumb seeking the light trail of hair that leads to his shorts, the scar on his stomach raised beneath the pad of your fingertips.

He leans into you, almost collapsing against you but keeping himself upright with his arm on the wall. “Touch me…please…” he whimpers and you push your hand inside his running shorts, curling your fingers around him.

You stroke him once, two times, and he closes his eyes, murmuring under his breath a litany of pleas and profanities. Then he seems to come back to himself, gently taking your wrist and moving it away.

“Not here…” he mutters, shaking his head in despair and you nod. Your palm tingles where it touched his cock, and resist the urge to lick your own skin, chasing the taste of him This is what he does to you, makes you utterly shameless with want.

“Shower.” he grunts, tilting his head towards the stairs and your stomach lurches with lust.

John keeps hold of your wrist, leading you away from the wall, passing the table by the entrance he pauses, looking puzzled.

“What’s with the flowers?”

Shit. You had forgotten about the lilies, the extravagant bunch with their pungent smell making you look guilty.

“Santino dropped by…” you say as breezily as possible. “The flowers are an apology…now can we continue…?”

John lets go your wrist. Well I guess not.

“He…was in this fucking house?” he almost growls and you and you glare back.

“You’re always going on about etiquette John, what was I supposed to do, not let him in?”

John sighs, dropping his shoulders. “It’s not your fault. I just…I don’t like him around Connor…around you…”

“Why, cause he might tell me some of your secrets?” as soon as you say the words you wish them unsaid, but it’s too late. John is looking at you with hurt eyes.

“You can ask me anything you want to know.”

You let out a deep breath “I trust you John, you’ll tell me when you’re ready.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t put your trust so blindly in people. Goddammit you’re naive.”

John speaks without thinking, his fear and frustration taking over. You know this, but you’re hurt all the same, and it makes you want to hurt him back.

“You weren’t complaining about my naivety five minutes ago when my hand was down your shorts…”

John, to your surprise, gives a barking laugh at that, pushing his hair off his face. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I just got scared thinking what he could have done.”

“He’s dangerous?” you feel confused, Santino seemed a little threatening sure, but mostly he was just aiming at seductive.

You rush to reassure John “He just flirted with me John…”

“Oh really?” John tilts his head, the anger in him gone, but a nagging jealousy taking its place. “And did you flirt back my little devil?”

You see an opportunity to get back at him “A little maybe, he’s so charming you almost can’t help it.”

John takes a step towards you “And you do have a penchant for older men…”

“He’s younger than you…”

John is smiling, so you take it as a good sign to continue with your teasing.

“You didn’t seem to mind my age the other night…riding me with such abandon…” John’s eyes have gone dark again as he recounts the memory.

“I don’t mind it. I like it. I like you. I’d let you do anything….” you trail off, not having planned to reveal such a thing, but too late now.

John grabs you around the waist and pulls you tight against him, You can feel him, hard and throbbing and so warm against your thigh.

“I’m going to count to five, and if you’re not upstairs and naked in that shower by the time I’ve finished…there will be trouble…”

You kinda want to see what ‘trouble’ would involve, but the look in John’s eyes is dangerous, so you pull away reluctantly, moving to the banister.

“One.” he counts, staring at your backside and advancing after you. You let out a little scream and scramble up the stairs.

“Two….”

You can almost feel his breath on your neck and you reach the top of the stairs. You run into the bathroom, a nervous giggle under your breath. You catch sights of your face in the bathroom mirror, eyes wide with excitement, hazy with arousal. You look like a hunted deer who is longing to be caught.

“Three…” John flings open the door and raises a dark eyebrow pointedly. You stand in the middle of the bathroom floor and start to strip, letting your jeans and t-shirt fall in a heap.

John’s eyes run appreciatively over your bare skin and he licks his lips “Four…”

It comes out a bit hoarse and you wrench the shower on, feeling the water hit your heated skin as John removes his own clothes and joins you, grasping your face in his hands and tipping your head under the spray as he kisses you passionately. His tongue licks into your mouth like flames, his hands are everywhere, so firm they’re almost bruising.

“Five…” he pants, resisting his forehead against yours, his dark eyes inescapable as he pushes two fingers inside you and you gasp.

“Fuck me…” you exclaim. “John…”

“I plan to.” he returns smugly, but you can see in his eyes he’s almost wrecked, turning you with thumbs digging into your hips so your back is towards him, reaching around to keep touching you. You grind against his fingers, desperately.

He pushes himself at the juncture of your thighs and you spread your legs in welcome. John knows he can’t wait, so speeds up his fingers as he pushes himself inch by inch into your tight heat. It’s the most delicious torture he’s ever felt.

You push yourself back on him, greedy for more and he groans, losing control for a second and thrusting into you so violently you almost fall forward. He grabs your shoulders and steadies you, his instinct all protection, and nips your neck in warning.

“Be careful…”

You nod, but lean the top of your body forward and grind your hips back in rebellion. John gives in, holding your hip with one hand while bringing the other to caress your breasts, thumbing and pinching your nipples. You just want him to fuck you, to claim you, and you whimper all of this into the air, hoping the shower spray will muffle the sound.

John hears it all though, and it’s all he can do not to push you up against the shower wall and just take...

“Shush…” he hushes you, putting a hand over your mouth, fearful of the noise and also his own reaction to your pleas.

You pant against his hand, feeling it grow damp with your fevered breathing, the shower walls almost opaque with steam. John continues his onslaught, gripping you tightly so you wont fall, but taking you at a fevered pace, pressing his face into the back of your neck as he comes. You join him, sinking your teeth into the fleshy mound of his hand and tasting blood. It only makes him hold you tighter, aftershocks shuddering through his body.

You clean each other up under the spray and you examine his hand a little bashfully.

“Sorry.”

John moves your damp hair away from your neck, his fingers trailing down the side. “In that case i’m sorry too.”

He wraps you in a towel and you glimpse yourself in the steamed up mirror. Your neck is covered in bites John has left on you, dark marks scattered at angles like a haiku on your skin. You just wish you knew how to read it.


	18. How long will I love you?

_How long will I love you_

_As long as stars are above you_

_And longer if I can_

\- How long will I love you, Jon Boden, Sam Sweeney and Ben Coleman

\----------

  
John dresses quickly and hurries off to get Connor. You dress more slowly, feeling your limbs languid from the chemicals released by your sex with John. You pull your sweater on as instructed, touch your lips which are still blush red from pleasure, and stumble downstairs.

Connor runs up to you and pushes a piece of paper into your hand. It’s an invitation to an open air music concert. He nods excitedly, and John gives you a smile over the top of his head, a little knowing, a little smug.

“Best of all…we’ve got a picnic…” he says with a wink, giving you a peek inside a wicker basket which has a bottle of wine nestled amongst french sticks, wrapped packages of cheese and fruit. You touch his arm, moved by his thoughtfulness.

He shrugs, but you can see his eyes shining, a blush on the top of his high cheekbones as he bundles you, Connor and the picnic inside the car.

The concert is at a nearby park, seats placed out on the grass and a small stage set up for the performers. You find a good spot and spread the blanket. Almost immediately a woman approaches your little group and you tense. John however, sits straight and confident beside you, smiling up at her.

“Hello Jonathan…” she says in a slightly sniffy voice.

“Isabel!” he says with fake enthusiasm and you hide a smile.

John turns to you “This is Mrs Isabel Reed…she’s headmistress at the school Connor will be attending in the fall…”

Mrs Reed looks at you with suspicion and some disdain, her eyes flicking over your dirty converse shoes.

“This is…y/n…Connor’s nanny..” John introduces you and although you can’t blame him, you feel a sting. Will you ever be introduced as something more?

“Pleased to meet you…” says Mrs Reed. her face showing anything but pleasure.

“Well I’ll leave you to your picnic…I hope you are preparing Connor for school Miss y/n…I expect the best from my students…”

Connor looks terrified and John chuckles and cuddles him, whispering reassuring words in his ear. He nods, still so serious, too serious you fear, for his age, and gives you a heartbreaking smile.

Luckily, just then the music starts up Connor immediately jumps to his feet and starts bopping around and you hide your delight, giggling into John’s shoulder. He caresses your hair then stands up, offering you his hand.

“Care to dance?”

You roll your eyes but let him pull you to your feet. John slides his arms around you and you shuffle a little awkwardly to the music. He spins you round and then catches you when you almost fall against him.

“Sorry…I’m not the most coordinated.” He smiles down at you, and although you’re in jeans you feel like you’re back at the ball with him. You smooth a hand over his rumpled shirt and feel your heart bloom dangerously.

“I….you make me happy John.” you confess, feeling the embarrassment of the truth wash over you, but standing firm and letting it pass as a wave.

John freezes, looking into your eyes questioningly. You see him hesitate to respond and pull away from him, moving to Connor who is spinning round with his eyes closed. You spin as well, stretching your arms out wide, watching the park rotate around you, then fall onto the grass, breathless.

John drops down beside you as you lie on your back. You smile vaguely at him, his face a haze of brown, blue and white from your dizziness. He kisses you and you sit up in amazement, glancing worriedly to Connor, who still has his eyes closed, now sitting and listening to the music.

John shakes his head at your fear, and you realise he’s too careful to kiss you when there was a risk of getting caught. You peck him back in apology and he passes you a glass of wine.

“All I want is for you to be happy…” he says in reply to your earlier statement, even though minutes have passed by since. “I’m just not sure what I can offer you. I feel…a little used up…”

You press your hand into his and squeeze it reassuringly, but you feel far from calm yourself, your fears and jealousies crowd in on your happiness like Banquo at the feast.

“Are you still…in love with her? Waiting…for her?” You glance to Connor although you’re sure John will know who you’re referring to.

John frowns. “Why are you bringing that up? That was…before i even met you…”

“You had a child with her John. It’s not a small thing. She has a right…if she ever came back.”

He shushes you gently, and to your shame you can feel tears pricking at the corner of your eyes. You lean into his side and listen to the music which has turned slower and more contemplative. Connor is sleeping quietly on the rug and you touch his arm to make sure he isn’t cold.

John does the same to you, then kisses your forehead. “She’s not the one I love…not the one I want…” he murmurs softly in your ear. “Don’t let her spoil what we have…”

But for how long will we have this? The words stay unspoken on your tongue, and instead you turn and gaze your fill on the gorgeous man beside you, so solid, so real. You touch your fingers to his salt and pepper beard tenderly, singing along with the music softly under your breath.

John holds you, covering Connor with a blanket and feeding you strawberries until the music is finished and you are feeling less melancholy. The wine and his attention has warmed you, and your doubts are fading nicely into the background. You’re slightly buzzed, insisting on keeping your feet bare as you walk back to the car, John carrying Connor in his arms. You prance in front of John, twirling and making him laugh at your antics.

“Be careful” his familiar admonishment falls on your ears, ignored, and you almost trip over as you reach the car. John rolls his eyes and stows Connor safely in his car seat.

You just laugh, unhurt and twirling some more. John watches you, smiling, envious of your youthful energy. You run up to him and jump and he instinctively catches you. You wrap your legs around his waist and he holds you up. You press your lips to his enthusiastically and he returns the kiss, catching your mood and feeling his own lighten in response.

“Little one…” he says, his voice full of fondness and you want to scream your joy into the sky.

“I like you so much John…” you say, your mouth clumsily smushed against his, but meaning every word.

He sighs, you’re not sure from pain or happiness, and holds you tighter.

“Let’s stay like this…forever…”

“Your arms might get tired..” you giggle, clinging onto him but slipping. You land on your feet like a cat.

John drives back in silence, seeing you’re beat he tells you to stay at his house for the night and you’re too tired to argue, the fresh air and wine making you feel pleasantly compliant. This means you let John fold you into bed, his lanky arms and legs take up most of the space, so you tuck yourself into his side, lying with your head on his chest and looking up. You kiss the curve of his jaw and his arm tightens on your yours, gripping you into him.

Feeling a little wound up, and so happy from the evening you hump against his leg and he gives you a bemused but lustful look. You feel brattish though, a thought from earlier nagging into your mind.

“Why did you introduce me as ‘the nanny’ John?”

John pets your hair and presses his fingers into your nape as if he can pet you into submission. He probably could but that’s not the point.

“Because you are.” he answers simply.

You sigh, pushing yourself against his leg again, desire and frustration swirling together.

John moves a hand to your backside and pushes you hard into his leg and you whimper.

“She gave me such a look…that woman…like I was your mistress…” your words make sense to you, but with John’s hands digging pleasantly into your bottom you feel you’re losing the thread of your argument.

“Just jealous of your beauty I would imagine…” he says, voice calm, but watching your movements with dark eyes.

You feel hot, and sit up to take off your t-shirt and bra, leaving yourself in just panties which John eyes with an annoyed glare. He moves a thumb to your lips which you happily suck, then trails it down your front, ending at the top of your underwear, pressing into the tender skin below your navel.

“I’m serious John…we need to have a talk about this…arrangement. Connor is going to school soon and you can’t keep paying me when we’re doing this…oh…”

John is listening intently to you, but has slid his thumb to press into you through your underwear, right where a wet spot is starting to form in the fabric.

“We will talk…but nothing rational is going to occur just now…”

John grabs your shoulders and almost throws you down on the bed, hooking his thumbs into your knickers and sliding them down your legs and off. You want him of course, his large hands, his stupid attractive bearded face, and you open your legs in readiness, moving a hand to touch him.

John shakes his head and bats it away. You pout in confusion.

“Right now..I want you coming on my tongue…” he growls and you feel like you might faint.

“Is that okay?” he waits for your consent and you nod so hard the bed shakes.

He moves as if God made him to for this, his moist lips sliding down your inner thighs and breathing cool air over your warm heat. He smirks up at you before opening his mouth and letting that devilish tongue out to lick at you.

You whine and arch your back, throwing your arms back over your head to grip the headboard, needing an anchor. John doesn’t lap at you, but instead, gives firm and broad strokes with his tongue, confident and skilful.

He pauses, pushes a couple of fingers inside you and letting himself explore, trying to steady his own dizzy head. Having this power over you, to make you writhe with such wildness, is affecting him more than he’d like to admit. You grind down on his fingers, ever greedy and he smiles at you fondly.

“Insatiable…”

You know it’s true, but you cannot help it. You swear he is designed to make your every dirty dream come to life.

“John…just…please…don’t tease…”

He leans down, rubs his stubble against your leg before resuming the task of tasting you. You don’t care if you get beard burn all over your skin, you just need him.

He groans against you and it’s too much suddenly, you grasp his smooth dark hair to keep him there, John complies happily, feeling you flood onto his tongue as you gasp out his name.

He licks his lips, then looks at you tenderly as you shake a bit, motioning him to come and cuddle you. He holds you tight and bury your face in his chest, overwhelmed.

Concerned, John looks at you “Did I hurt you?”

“NO!! You quickly reassure him “It was just…intense…”

John nods and tilts your face up, his dark serious eyes checking you over. You stay still until whatever he sees satisfies him and you lets you go.

You sit up and move to undo his jeans which look uncomfortably tight. He stops you with gentle hands.

“You’re tired…we can just sleep…”

You whimper, tugging a bit at his belt and he hushes you “I’m putting my foot down. You’re going to rest.”

“You’re putting your foot down?”

John looks immovable in his resolve so you give in, sighing. He is comfortable to sleep on, even still fully dressed as he is.

You rest secure in his arms and you realise- this is what makes him so special, he is capable of being utterly selfless, a father’s skill, but not one that all of them learn. You are suddenly hit with a feeling so intense you cannot but think it might be love. But wouldn’t it be very unfortunate indeed if you were to fall in love with a man you cannot really have?


	19. Fools rush in

_Shall I stay?_   
_Would it be a sin_   
_If I can’t help falling in love with you?_

\- Can’t help falling in love with you, Ingrid Michaelson (Yes I know Elvis but I love this version)

\----------

You wake up, the bed is quiet and cold, telling you John is no longer in it. You hear a delighted shrieking from Connor and go downstairs to investigate. John is crawling around on all fours with Connor on his back, growling and making monster noises.

You stand with your arms crossed looking at them, a fond smile pulling at your lips.

“Be careful! You’ll knock something over!”

John glances up, seeing you there and crawling up to your legs, butting his head against them like a dog wanting petting.

You roll your eyes and for Connor’s sake, indulge him, patting his dark head. John makes a noise that sounds very like purring. He sits up on his knees and Connor slides off his back, still giggling, then runs off to play.

“John. Are you back to being John now…or still monster?”

John tilts his head, considering, then grabs you round the waist wrestling you gently to the floor.

You scream half in shock half in delight as he scratches his beard across your neck, making ‘monster’ grunts.

“Monster hungry…” he rumbles against your ear, making you shiver. He is rubbing himself against you now, his stubble leaving red marks on your neck and you can’t help but moan.

John chuckles a bit hearing your reaction and makes a chomping noise, biting your shoulder gently. “Mmm…tasty…”

“John!” you protest, but cling onto his warm and solid back.

John alternates between rubbing his cheek all over you and nipping every piece of skin he can reach. By the end of it you’re breathless and completely limp under him, lying supine on the carpet and submitting to everything.

John leans back and surveys his work, having satisfactorily marked you as his own, a slow grin spreads over his face at your reaction.

“You belong to monster now….I’ll take you back to my den…”

You squeal and he lifts you, throwing you over his shoulder. You come to life a bit, beating ineffectual fists against him and he just chuckles, moving towards the stairs.

Bang bang.

John curses as someone knocks on the door, sighing and putting you down.

You attempt to look like nothing has affected you. “Who’s that?”

John clears his throat which is scratchy from doing his ‘monster voice’.

“Probably Aurelio…I need to go and help him with something at the garage.”

“Oh?” You say, slightly disappointed. “I thought we could spend the day…talking…”

You touch the red marks on your neck and John almost stumbles as he walks to the door, giving you a regretful look over his shoulder.

“Sorry. Hello friend…come in…”

Aurelio walks into the house and you pull your nightshirt down a bit embarrassed “I’ll…go…”

You turn and practically run up the stairs, your bare feet slapping against the wood.

Aurelio looks at your retreating figure and gives a low whistle, looking at John.

“Well. Seems like you broke the dry spell after all?”

John shakes his head, embarrassed “Aurelio it’s not like that…”

Aurelio smirks “I’m sure it’s not…”

John holds up a hand “I’m serious.”

Aurelio frowns “You like her…is John Wick finally falling in love?”

“Don’t say it like that…you make me sound like a heartless robot”

“It has been some time since you had a girlfriend John…even Connor’s mother…”

“Please don’t mention her.” John speaks a little roughly, then gives his friend a tight smile of apology “And nothing is official yet…”

Aurelio draws himself up to his full height, aiming to look sternly at John Wick is a difficult task. “A girl like that? Doesn’t come along very often John…you think she’s going to wait around until you get your shit together?”

John rubs his face “I don’t really want to question why she’s hung around so far. I’m hardly a great choice for a boyfriend…single father…complicated life…”

You pad quietly down a couple of stairs to see if the coast is clear, and hear John talking in his low, beautiful voice. You hear him listing all the reasons why you wouldn’t want him, and you have to resist running down and kissing him to silence all his concerns.

“So that’s why you’re playing it cautious? You didn’t even tell me!”

“I’m a gentleman. And it’s not the only reason…she’s…young…”

You bite your lip to stifle a whimper.

“Yeah you lucky devil…” Aurelio’s laugh has no edge to it, and you like him more and more.

John chuckles “Shut up. I’d like her no matter what her age…she’s…special…”

Aurelio sighs “I see…that’s got you into trouble before.”

“It’s different this time. I…”

You trip trying to creep closer and swear under your breath. John appears at the foot of the stairs.

“I wouldn’t go into a career as a spy…stick to the day job..” he scolds, raising an eyebrow, but his voice is soft and his eyes gentle.

You stand up with as much dignity as you can muster and he takes your hand to lead you down the stairs until you’re face to face. He kisses your nose then seems to think better of it, claiming your lips in a searing kiss that makes your knees weak.

“I have to go. You’ll be okay?” he cups your face and you nod, eyes still a little wide at being caught.

He leaves with Aurelio, pulling on a leather jacket that makes you long to pull him back and convince him to stay, preferably with your mouth, but you don’t, and you wince as the door bangs shut.

———————–

You take Connor to an art gallery, mainly to distract yourself. He hates it. Pulling at your hand the whole time, refusing to be excited by Cornelia Parker, frowning when you try to explain, and telling you “We have forks at home, silly.”

He finally gets engaged when they start a children’s session of painting and you breathe a sigh of relief. You wander around, taking comfort and solace from the art which never fails to lighten your heart. You feel someone watching you, then suddenly, there is a figure standing beside you.

The man raises his hand to point to the painting in front of you and his heavy Italian accent makes you jolt. You keep your eyes fixed on the canvas.

“You see here…the drips of yellow amongst the blue- seemingly by accident but..meticulously planned? It takes a genius to reach that level. Making things that are hard look effortless…”

You nod “It’s beautiful….”

Santino nods and you can feel him staring at you. “If I’d known you had an interest in art I would have invited you to my gallery sooner…”

You turn your head sharply then towards him “Your gallery?”

“Of course my dear…have you come to take me up on my offer of a job?”

You shake your head, motioning to Connor who is sat happily with the other children doing their own versions of drip paintings. “I already have a job.”

“Then….can I take you out…in a non-professional capacity?” Santino looks at you openly then, the first time you think you’ve seen him actually look honest.

“I’m sorry Santino…” you say with real feeling. “I can’t.”

His face shadows again “I think we need to talk…about John…I need to warn you…”

You purse your lips “It’s none of your business.”

“I’m trying to be your friend.” he protests.

“Are you?” you ask, raising your voice a little. Connor looks round from the group in concern and you sigh, moving to grab his hand. Connor holds his still wet painting and looks up at you confused.

“Come on…we’re going..” Connor starts to whine and you glare at him without meaning to. He gives you a forlorn look and rubs his sleeve over his nose.

“Say goodbye to Mr D’Antonio…” you mutter and march him out of the gallery as fast at you can.

Connor sulks all the way home and you’re in just as bad of a mood. He drags his feet, making you miss the bus and having to walk all the way back. You refuse to get him ice cream, John’s words about ‘too much junk food’ echoing in your head.

He pulls away from you when you get back to the house, running to his room and slamming the door.

“A little young for teenage tantrums isn’t he?” asks John from the table where he is working.

You flop onto the couch, exhausted. “It’s my fault.”

John moves to sit beside you, taking your foot in his hand and undoing the laces of your shoes.

“That seems unlikely…what happened?”

“I was a bitch.”You sigh as John kneads the bottom of your foot firmly.

“Shouldn’t you go check on Connor?”

“I will. But he’ll just be playing with his dinosaurs. He gets in a bad mood with me too y’know? Especially when I say no.”

He slips off your sock to rub your bare ankle. You wiggle your toes in his lap and he gives you a dark look.

All the anxiety and worry in your mind starts to drain away. “Are you sure you don’t have a thing for feet John?”

He looks up at you with burning cheeks. “No. Just…maybe for yours? Seeing as they are attached to such a lovely body…” his hands creep up your ankle and you whimper, putting your hands over your face.

“Please god…go check on your son before I beg you to fuck me on the couch…”

“Beg me?” John kisses your toe before reluctantly letting you go

“I’d like to hear that…”

“Please, John.” you’re embarrassed, and wave him away.

“Oh good, a preview…” he smirks, before jogging up the stairs two at a time.

You hide your face in a cushion until he returns.

“Connor has something he wants to say to you. Don’t you son?”

You look up and Connor is standing there looking shy.

“‘m sorry…”

“I’m sorry too…” you open your arms and he falls into them for a hug. You hold tightly a moment, looking at John who is smiling happily at you both.

“I made this…for you…”

Connor shoves his painting in your hand before running off. You hold it to your chest and look at John, almost tearing up with emotion.

“Hey now….your mood swings almost as fast as his…” John tells you gently, folding you into his arms.

You cling into his strong back and sniff a bit.

“Sorry…I’m emotional…”

John cuddles you “Do you like me as much as my child?”

You pull back and he wipes the tears off your cheeks.

“It’s a close second…”

“I’ll take it…” he says, voice so low it sends goosebumps over your skin.

“Let’s put this on the fridge…” he says, inclining his head towards Connor’s painting and you almost start crying again, this time, with happiness.


	20. Feels like home

_Something in your eyes_   
_Makes me want to lose myself_   
_Makes me want to lose myself_   
_In your arms_   
_There’s something in your voice_   
_Makes my heart beat fast_   
_Hope this feeling lasts_   
_The rest of my life_

\- Feels like home, Chantal Kreviazuk

\--------------

“It’s my birthday next week…” you say, offhand to John as he is sorting through his books, tossing some on a pile to give to a thrift store.

You pick up each one and shake your head, handing it back to him.

“The Oxford English? Come on John…Connor will need that.”

“For Kindergarten?” John asks dryly, but takes it from you and replaces it on the shelf.

“I actually knew it was your birthday. I saw it on your résumé.”

You look at him, puzzled, thinking that doesn’t quite add up but he distracts you with another question. “What will you do to celebrate?”

You chew your lip, stroking the cover of an old edition of À la recherche du temps perdu.

“I suppose…something quiet. I hate my birthday.”

John frowns “Why ?”

You laugh “I just don’t like being reminded I’m getting older…maybe you won’t like me when I’m older…”

John rolls his eyes and moves to sit next to you on the couch, taking the book from your hands and looking at it.

“You’re right…I was planning to dump you if you aged at all…”

You hit his chest “Not funny.”

He leans forward and kisses your nose. “Let me take you out…for a birthday dinner.”

“Really John?” you melt but tilt your head sceptically.

“Sure.” he snorts “Why not?”

You hug yourself “You don’t seem to like being seen in public with me.”

John tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, caressing the shell as he does so “You know that’s not true. I’m just… being careful.”

You nod, knowing he’s right. “We can go somewhere quiet..somewhere out of town, where no one would see us. Maybe we can wear disguises…”

“What kind of disguises?” John asks, going along with the joke.

“Hmm…” you reach forward, pressing your fingertips to his cheekbones that look sharp enough to cut you, but are in fact soft and warm to the touch. “You could wear a mask…it’d be very Scarlet Pimpernel…”

“And you could be Catwoman…maybe something with leather?” John smirks and you roll your eyes.

“Perve. In that case you should be Batman…”

John laughs “I’m not arguing…”

“Hey…this is my birthday…if anyone’s fantasies are getting explored it should be mine…”

“And what fantasies do you have, little girl?” John asks, his voice gone low and soft as velvet, it’s like honey to your ears and you roll your neck to hide the effect it has on you.

He pulls you onto his lap and you go willingly, letting him claim a few kisses, more desperate than either of you expected.

“You’re it, really. I don’t need any more…”

“Oh…but there is always more..” he nips at your ear and you arch your neck to give him access, feeling his tongue touch your jaw.

You shift in his lap. “Like…what?”

“Well, what do you want? Want me to tie you up?” he holds your wrists suddenly in a firm grip and you whimper. He lets you go and lifts your wrist to his lips, kissing it in apology and staring into your eyes.

“O..okay…” you agree.

“Want me to spank you?” he gives you rear a light tap and you whine, pressing closer, you’re fevered now and his skin is cool.

John almost purrs, letting you rub against him like a cat. “It’s not your birthday yet…”

You whine in protest and put your hands on his shoulders, bouncing in his lap. John gives you a death glare and grabs your hips to still you.

“Now who’s a pervert? Trying to get me hard…”

“But it’s so easy John…” you give him a devilish smile and a wink and he grunts.

“Around you? Fucking true. But you shouldn’t exploit the knowledge. Come on…off…”

He swats your butt and you climb off him reluctantly, your mind running away to all kinds of filthy images.

John sees it and looks at you sternly. “So what have we picked to give away?”

You pick up the only two books you didn’t force him to put back.

“Uhm…Catcher in the Rye and The Da Vinci code..”

“Oooh…”John winces “I’d throw them away but it’s a waste of trees.”

You put the offending books into a bag and place them by the door to donate.

“Are we taking them now?”

John checks his watch “No time…can you get Connor up from his nap?”

You nod, smiling quietly to yourself, when did the two of you get so domestic?

————–

image  
Originally posted by vickyinwonderlandxo

The morning of your birthday you wake up alone in your own bed. John’s given you the day off and so you give yourself the treat of a lie in. That afternoon you make your way over to John’s house. You let yourself in with your key and call out to the empty room

“John?”.

There is a package leaning against the hall table wrapped in brown paper. You tear it open carefully, just as your beautiful dark haired lover appears.

“ John you didn’t…” you squeal excitedly, seeing the vibrant colours of a drip print.

“Actually I didn’t.” John is beside you, frowning thoughtfully “I’m sorry my pet it must have been delivered here by accident.”

“But it’s addressed to me…see?”

“Then…a birthday present…from your parents maybe?”

“They wouldn’t know to send it here…” you get the wrapping off and lift the painting to see it better. The colours are stunning, the signature authentic “Holy shit….John…this isn’t a print…it’s the real thing..”

John takes the painting from you as you almost drop it. He blinks at it in puzzlement.

“Honestly it looks like something a child could have done…”

“John!” you scold. This must be worth thousands of dollars! You didn’t buy it for me?”

”No…” he replies, starting to look suspicious and you attempt to dial down your reaction.

“Oh well…never mind…”

John narrows his eyes and leans the painting against the wall. “That kinda ruined my surprise.”

You shake your head “No…no…of course it hasn’t…”

He huffs “Well we gotta do it anyway…come here..”

You obediantly trot to him and he spins you round gently, placing his hands on your shoulder.

“Close your eyes. I’ll guide you.”

You open your mouth to protest but something about his tone makes you comply, giggling nervously. “Where?”

“Kitchen.” he rumbles in your ear and you go surprisingly easily, months now spent in John’s house have meant you know your way around without needing to see, and John guides you expertly, making sure you don’t bang into anything.

He opens the kitchen door and you hear some whispering before he’s back by your side.

“Okay…open your eyes.”

You do so and the first thing you see is his smiling handsome face, before you spot Connor holding a birthday cake covered in candles. He brings it over to you under John’s watchful gaze.

“Daddy says make a wish.”

You flush with happiness and glance to John who is watching you both with a fond expression.

“But I already have everything I could want…”

Connor giggles “So wish for a dinosaur…that’s what I did…but don’t tell anyone.”

“All right.” You take a deep breath and blow out all the candles at once.

I wish…I wish for things to always be like this…you repeat in your head, feeling like a child but believing in the magic anyway.

You take the cake from Connor and John passes you a knife to cut it into slices. Connor whispers in your ear “Did you wish for a dinosaur? If yours comes true first can I have a ride on it?”

You smile at him, full of love and nod “Of course you can…Daddy too…”

John blinks at you as you pass him a slice of cake “Huh? Daddy too…what?” He has only just got used to you calling him that name.

“Can have a ride…” you say, dimpling at his expression of pure shock as he gestures to Connor, who is of course, oblivious to your double meaning.

Connor goes to eat his cake on the couch where the cartoons are, and John stalks nearer to you, holding his plate. “What did you just say to me?” he’s grinning, his eyes full of light.

He offers the cake to your lips then at the last moment shoves it into his own mouth.

“Hey!” You pout. “It’s my birthday.”

John chews obnoxiously “So?”

You move to kiss the side of his mouth, messy with cake “So I get what I want.”

“What more could want but this delicious cake? Mmmm…” he makes a show of licking his lips and catching yours in the process.

You sigh, pressing against his solid body and burying your face in his neck. Sometimes, it floors you, how much you want him, how much he means to you.

“Hey….” John looks more serious then, moving a hand to your back and rubbing gently.

“Sorry…it’s just…birthdays…kinda get to me…they make you want to look back on the year…as well as forward, y’know?”

“I get it….” John says in a gentle voice, kissing your cheek “If you want to skip dinner we can just stay home…order pizza and watch a movie?”

You smile up at him. “No. Actually I’m really looking forward to it. And we cannot dissapoint Connor and tell him he’s not going to Uncle Aurelio’s anymore..”

“True. My son will come home a little petrol head.” John chuckles. “And I’m looking forward to it as well…spending time with you….alone…”

You shiver at the look in his eyes, warm caramel and suggestive. “This is because I called you ‘Daddy’ isn’t it?”

“I can’t say it doesn’t affect me…” he adjusts his belt with a meaningful glare “But no…you deserve…some romance…”

You throw up your hands, it’s all too much. “I’m going to get ready….have I got time for a bubble bath?”

“Only if you let me join you…” John replies.

“What about Connor?”

“Aurelio is coming early to pick him up. Don’t worry, I’ll bribe him with cake.”

You move near to kiss the frosting off his beautiful mouth “You, John Wick, are a very bad man.”


	21. Birthday

_So make, a wish_   
_I’ll make it like your birthday everyday_   
_I’ll be, your gift_   
_Give you something good to celebrate_

-Birthday, Katy Perry

Warning: Daddy kink smut- if that’s not your cup of tea you can skip this part and it won’t affect the rest of the series I promise, just join us again in part 22

——————————-

Aurelio comes and picks Connor up while John insists on running your bath. As soon as you hear the front door close you creep upstairs, shedding your clothes as you go. John is frowning over the water, testing the temperature. His dark hair falling over his face, broad back stretched out athletically. You sigh fondly and sneak up behind him to make him jump.

He lets out a bark of surprise and turns on you quickly. Before you know it he has you pinned up against the bathroom wall, both your wrists captive above your head, and a very serious, panting John Wick is looking down at you with a fierce glare.

You whimper, looking up at him with big eyes “John…?”

John closes his eyes for a moment and when he opens them he looks more himself.

“Sorry…I’m not good at being snuck up on…”

“I’m….sorry…” you gape a bit, astonished at his reaction.

John looks truly apologetic, but then he notices you are half undressed and his eyes shutter back to the dark, predatory look from earlier, this time warmed by heated desire.

He smirks, and you squirm in his grasp feeling vulnerable. John holds your wrists with one hand and brings the other to trace a line down your neck, his nail scratches your skin a bit and you flinch, biting back a moan.

He raises a dark eyebrow, cataloguing your every reaction. “Aren’t you going to beg me to let you go?”

You shake your head which is pressed against the tiled wall “No…I like being held by you…”

John lets out a groan and tightens his grip on your wrists, leaning into your neck and breathing in your scent before licking at your skin.

You do moan then and feel his smile against your skin, your pulse is hammering and he must be able to feel it. He opens his mouth and nips gently at the spot where your artery is pulsing. You freeze, knowing he could really hurt you if he wanted to, but you trust him, with your life.

He lets your wrists go, but you keep your hands above your head until directed otherwise. John trails his large hands down the insides of your arms making you shiver, then stands back to look at you.

“Dirty little girl aren’t you?” he asks, his smile fond and almost gentle, glinting with hidden menace.

You lick your lips which have gone suddenly dry “Sorry Daddy…you should clean me up…”

“Don’t call me that.” John growls and you tilt your head, seeing a way to get to him.

“Why not?”

“Because it’s…it’s not right…”

John’s voice is low and hurried, you can see he is turned on, he just doesn’t want to admit it.

“John it’s okay…” you say gently, to reassure him. “I won’t call you it if you don’t like it…”

He rushes back close to you, kissing you then, deep and desperate, before pressing his forehead on yours and looking in your eyes.

“I do like it though…fuck. It makes me rock hard when you say it. I don’t know why.”

You’re a little breathless from his admission but try to speak calmly, moving out of the rest of your clothes to distract him.

“That’s the thing about desire John….it doesn’t always make sense…and you don’t have to question it with me…I trust you…”

He sighs, gazing at you. “Sometimes I think you must be older than me…”

You laugh and shake your head “You just worry too much. Come on…this bath looks amazing.”

He grins, pleased, pulling his t-shirt over his head. “You think so? I made it as bubbly as I could…”

“It’s great John.” you reply, looking at him, feeling almost sick with love.

John goes to undo his belt and you stop his hands. “No….let me help Daddy…”

He glares at you but his protests die in his throat at you look up through your lashes, pouting your bottom lip.

“Please?”

John rolls his eyes and removes his hands, moving them into your hair as you push his jeans down. You lick your lips half on purpose when you see the bulge in his boxers, slightly scratching your nails on his thick thighs before pulling his underwear off too.

John looks at you almost hopelessly, your ever action turning him on further. You look up into his face and feel a rush of power, taking his hard cock in your hand and just feeling the weight.

He tips his head back for a moment then puts his hand over yours, moving it a bit up and down his shaft. You allow him to control your movements for a while, noting the way he likes to be touched.

“You know I did this…on my own…thinking of you…”

You feel your knees go weak with his revelation, sinking to the floor between his legs. John looks down at you dizzily, shaking his head. “You don’t….have to…the bath will get cold…”

“It’s my birthday….I get what I want, remember?” you ask, before pressing your cheek against his thigh, kissing there. His size is intimidating, and although you want him more than anything, you need to work up your courage first.

John smoothes your hair and cups your cheek, pressing long fingers into your jaw. He is looking at you with awe, and it’s all you need to spur you on.

You take him in your hand again, then your mouth, warm and wet and sinful and John curses above you trying not to come instantly from the feeling of your tongue licking up the underside of his penis.

His fingers massage your scalp as you bob your head for a while. His texture and taste are divine, and you think you’ve found your new favourite pastime.

You carry on until you can feel him getting close. John has his eyes shut, gripping your shoulders so not collapse to the floor. You reluctantly let him slip from your mouth so you can talk.

“Is this what you thought of me doing? When you first saw me with that lollipop? Huh John?”

John is lost in a haze of lust and through the pounding in his ears he hears you taunting him.

“Fuck…please…” he begs, trying to get back inside the warm heat of your mouth. You rub the tip of him against your lips and taste pre-cum.

“Not until you admit it…”

He opens his eyes and you’ve never seen them so dark, the pupils entirely blown, indistinguishable from his beautiful brown irises.

“I…..yes…that’s exactly that I thought of…your perfect lips…on my cock…”

You grip his thighs ready to resume your task and let him use your mouth then, feeling dizzy like you could almost come yourself just from pleasing him. You move your spare hand to touch yourself and John sees it, giving such a loud groan you’re glad the house is empty.

He pulls back to warn you he’s coming and you just smile,

“Give it to me Daddy…”

Then you take him back in your mouth and watch as his hips jerk violently, letting himself go finally with a bellow which fades into a whimper.

You wipe your mouth and he slumps against the edge of the bathtub trying to recover, looking at you with astonished eyes.

“That was…honestly? I think I almost died from pleasure…” he rubs his face and your heart softens.

“Let’s get in…” you nod to the bubble bath and you both step in with shaky legs. You settle with John at your back and feel him breathing, still ragged into your ear.

You stroke his long legs, letting the water soothe him, and John relaxes, hugging you tight but giving in to the languor in his limbs. He kisses your neck and moves soapy hands to your breasts kneading them gently. You let your head fall back against his shoulder with a sigh.

“You’re so different from anyone I’ve ever known…” John mumbles softly and you flinch a little, worried.

“I know I’m not like…the women you might have had before John.”

“You’re not….but for some reason it’s so right between us.”

“For some reason…” you sigh and try to relax as John kisses your ear.

“Connor adores you…you must have a talent for charming the Wick men…”

You giggle and splash him a bit. “Connor is the sweetest soul I ever knew. He’s going to make an amazing man when he grows up.”

John clings you tightly, kissing your wet shoulder and you suddenly feel a pang of sadness.

“Which I guess I won’t get to see…”

“Huh?” John asks, lost in the feeling of your skin, soft and soapy under his hands.

You sigh “I won’t see him grow up…once he goes to school full-time you won’t need me anymore…”

“Don’t say that…” John frowns

“But it’s true. I’ll go back to school myself and you…you’ll probably marry some awful, uptight, perfect corporate businesswoman named Sue…”

“Actually I think it was Sarah…” John chuckles.

You splash him again “I’m serious.”

“Little one…come on…it’s your birthday…”

“Don’t you ‘little one’ me…” you growl, but feel a smile creeping onto your face.

John moves his head around your shoulder to look into your eyes. “Beautiful. I mean it. I want you.”

“Hmmm…” you harumph, sulking a bit,

John trails his hands from your chest down your stomach “Can I help you relax some more?”

You let out a soft breath, your legs falling apart almost automatically as his fingers cup you under the water.

“John….” you whisper as he starts to move firm but gentle fingers in exactly the right spot.

“Hey now…that’s not my name…”

He grins against your neck and you curse him, even as you let him take you apart.

——————–

You dry yourself, after the bath, after John has give you two more orgasms and ground his erection into your bottom with the promise of “More sex after dinner.”

You’ve shooed him away downstairs, wanting to dress without him seeing. A sleek black dress, that shows off your curves but is more mature than your usual style, hangs ready. High patent pumps that you fear will break your ankle complete the ensemble. You forego your normal pink lip-gloss for a slick of dark red lipstick.

As you walk down the stairs John waits at the bottom, clean and fresh in his suit and tie. You pause to gaze at him.

He has swept his hair back but it is soft without the gel he puts in it for work. You’re so used to seeing him in black, that the grey is striking on him, making his brown eyes stand out even more. His suit jacket hides the broad shoulders and the white shirt strains to cover his lean and muscled chest.

He wears a brown leather belt which makes you feel unsettled, and his pants do little to hide the impressive and beautiful package you now have intimate knowledge of.

John stares right back. You look different somehow and it takes a few moments for him to get used to it, seeing you then as a woman more than a girl. He sighs, fidgeting with his tie and suddenly feeling very inadequate.

You reach the foot of the stairs, seeing his expression and blink.

“What’s wrong? You don’t like my dress?” You ask, panicked.

John shakes his head, unable to speak for a moment. “I…do. I do…honestly…you look…luminous…”

You blush for real and hide your face in his chest, wanting the reassurance of his touch. John hugs and kisses your hair, relieved to see your familiar smell has not changed.

“I just…I think you deserve something more than me…someone that’s not so bitter or jaded. Someone you can experience all of life the first time round with.”

You straighten his tie. “Do I get any say in this? Because if I do…I’d like to be with someone who is so caring, so sweet to his son it makes my heart ache, someone that gives me knee-trembling orgasms, someone who understands my weird, geeky ways….”

You babble on, then realise John is smiling at you, his face shining with a warm, loving expression.

“That’d be you by the way…” you finish, trying to scuff your feet then remembering you’re wearing heels.

“I…got that.” chuckles John, before grabbing your face and kissing you deeply.

“Listen if you say any more we’re not going to make our dinner reservation so let’s go…now..”

You let him lead you outside, and are pleased to see John has ordered a cab, rather than driving. You are planning to get him very drunk and take advantage of him in all the best ways.

———————————–

“Best birthday ever.” You pant, as John groans out his release, flopping down beside you.

“It’s not over yet…” he smirks, after catching his breath, reaching for his tie which you threw on the nightstand.


	22. Walking after you

_If you’d accept surrender, I’ll give up some more_

_Weren’t you adored?_

_I cannot be without you, matter of fact_

_If you walk out on me_

_I’m walking after you_ \- Foo Fighters- Walking After you

—————–

The next day with Connor still at Aurelio’s, you doze lazily in John’s bed, sharing sleepy morning kisses. You wrestle a bit in bed, your limbs tangled together, play-fighting as you push at his t-shirt in frustration. It is a competition to see who get the most clothes off who, and John of course wins, throwing your vest on the floor and tugging at your underwear, threatening to rip them off.

You grab his hand and hold it against you, letting him feel how wet you are already and you manage to catch him off guard. John’s eyes darken immediately and he touches you enthusiastically. Tilting his head he looks at you questioningly, in awe that he gets to have that effect on you.

“Mine?” he stutters.

“Yours” you confirm and take advantage of his moment of shock to straddle him. John lets you get the upper hand for a moment and you grind down on him, boxers between you, kissing him deeply, your fingers tangled in his dark hair. John indulges you for a while, his fingers digging into your backside and squeezing it harder when you kiss his throat.

His fingers run up your spine and back down again, making you shiver at the feather light touches. You are soon rubbing against him like a cat and he lets out a groan as the movements of your hips causes friction, pulling the fabric of his boxers against his clothed erection.

“This little needy kitten routine really turns me on you know?” he growls, smirking against your ear and you feel the breath rush out of you at his words

You sit back, still straddling his hips so you can look at him, pretending you’re not completely at his mercy.

“That’s funny…because I’m on top…and you’re the one who’s almost straining out of your boxers…”

You scratch your nails on his chest and kiss and nip at his stomach, wanting to leave a mark of ownership on his skin- let all those women look, he belongs to me. John gives a warning noise in his throat, digging his fingers into your hair, proudly possessive himself.

“Your mouth…” he starts and you smile, loving it when he talks dirty, even more when he praises you. “…should be fucking illegal…”

You suck and lick at a bruise on his hip you guess he got messing around with Connor, then move back up, missing his lips on yours.

John takes control of the kiss whether you like it or not, hungrily claiming your lips and running a hand down your neck to hold you captive while he sticks his tongue down your throat. You’re hardly complaining, just struggling to stay balanced on top of him. John senses it and flips you both over so you’re lying under him.

He looks down at you smugly. “Now who’s on top?”

In revenge he starts kissing his way down your body while keeping you trapped under him, sucks your nipples until they are red and puffy and runs long fingers over them proudly. You let out a frustrated whimper.

“Aw…sorry baby…” he says in a mocking voice and you promise revenge with a glare. “But I’m stronger, bigger and older than you, so don’t feel bad…”

You feel him throbbing against your thigh and can tell that your play-fighting has turned him on as much as you.

“Please John…what do you want? Want me to beg?” you hide your knowing smile and open your eyes wide and innocent, blinking at him in a way you know will make him crazy.

He nods darkly and you start, a litany of pleas, letting all your pride and shame go in lieu of getting what you want, feeling your power in the way he responds.

“Please baby…please John…I need you so much…your beautiful cock ….want you to fill me up so good like you do…I never had it so good…you feel perfect…don’t deny me….please…”

John gives a guttural moan and hurriedly moves to take his boxers off, he’s so hard it’s almost painful, listening eagerly to each sinful thing that falls from your mouth, he wonders what he did to deserve this. How you went from being his most shameful fantasy to a delicious reality.

He begins thrusting shallowly into you, leaving you on the edge of being satisfied, it’s a torturous heaven.You try to wrap your legs around him to deepen it but he grips your thighs and shakes his head, looking into your eyes with soft brown ones as if he is trying to see into your soul.

It’s tormentingly lazy and John seems in no rush to finish.

You squirm with pleasure and reach your arms above your head stretching them, at the same time trying to tempt him into grabbing them and taking you harder. The way he is looking at you is making you self- conscious, and part of you wants to close your eyes and escape.

John looks fondly down at you and shakes his head.

“Slow today little one….please…”

You cannot deny him anything and eventually you surrender, giving in and just letting yourself feel. Him moving inside you, the soft fan of his warm breath against your cheek, the touch of his fingers on your cheeks, the look of his dark hair which falls in front of his eyes which are looking at you so softly it’s almost overwhelming.

When you come together it’s quieter than usual, but more intense, your toes curling and you feel a shiver running all the way up your body, and you shudder against John. He feels it, and responds, letting out a low groan gently into your ear and holding you tight.

Afterwards you share a shower in which John is still strangely clingy, insisting on washing your skin himself and then wrapping you in a towel. You feel coddled, cared for, and it’s a feeling you have to strain to relax into. When you do, you feel how it calms your hectic brain, you no longer think about the future, you enjoy the moment, being with him. John seems calmer too, but more affectionate than usual, finding ways to keep touching you, a hand on your back, patting your arm. You wonder what the hell has got into him, but enjoy every gesture.

——————————

John mutters something about needing to check things in the garage and you let him go, used to him muttering excuses then appearing hours later, covered in oil and looking relaxed and happy.

If it makes him look like that, you’re happy to sacrifice him for a few hours. You brew the coffee while you wait, standing in the kitchen with bare feet, wearing one of John’s shirts as a nightie. You look around, the kitchen table covered in a mixture of John’s papers, coffee cups and Connor’s toys, and a lump forms in your throat when you realise you’ve never been so happy in your life.

Time freezes and you desperately tell yourself savour this. The morning light is golden on your skin and you close your eyes trying to hold onto the moment a bit longer. John walks in wiping his hands on a rag and sees you standing there with your eyes closed, smiling like a loon and he chuckles, moving near and sliding his arms around your waist.

You let out a small cry of alarm. “I didn’t hear you…”

“That’s cause I’m stealthy…” John kisses your ear “what were you thinking about?”

“Hmm?” you act nonchalant, moving away from him to pour the coffee.

“When I came in. You seemed lost in thought…”

“I was just….thinking…how quiet it is without Connor…”

John frowns a bit “Oh yeah?”

“I miss him.” you admit and John breaks into a smile.

“Me too. But..he’ll be home soon…will you come outside first?”

“Sure…let me just get dressed.”

John leers at you “You look fine as you are…”

“John! I’m not even wearing a bra!”

John comes near and runs his hands over your chest “I can see that…” his voice has gone a bit shaky and you see danger ahead.

“What’s outside?”

“Your birthday present….”

“What?” You squeak. “I thought the cake…and dinner…”

John looks down at the floor, suddenly bashful “That didn’t seem enough for you…”

You’re touched, speechless, and tamely follow him as he leads you by the hand outside. A maroon Chevrolet Chevelle is parked on the drive and you blink in confusion.

“Did you get a new car?”

John rolls his eyes at you “Now, I hired you because you were smart, don’t prove me wrong.”

“For me?” You stare at the car in astonishment, trailing a hand over the bodywork which is buffed to a shine you can almost see your face in.

John is back to looking shy “So you won’t have to take the bus anymore…you and Connor can go wherever you want…”

You open the car door and sit in the driver’s seat, drumming your fingers excitedly on the wheel. John slides into the passenger seat and starts rambling about the car.

“So it’s 1970 model…I know you can’t even comprehend the 70s but they were a good time…”

“You were only a child in 1970 John, stop it.”

You reach to squeeze his hand and he pauses in detailing the statistics of the engine size.

“You did this up, for me? All those hours you were in the garage?”

He looks at your joined hands, a blush on his cheeks “Yeah.”

You slide back in the seat, it smells of leather and reminds you so much of John.

“I don’t even know how to say thank you.”

John lifts your hand and kisses it “You don’t need to. You have no idea what you’ve done for me since you’ve come here. You’ve made me feel young again…made me positive and hopeful…”

You sniff a little feeling overwhelmed with emotion and John looks at you concerned. You shake your head, trying to talk through the tears.

“I’m happy…don’t worry….just emotional, remember?”

“I do…” John rubs your back until you calm down, then you take a test drive around the block, the engine purring quietly and John trying not to hold on as you speed around the corners.

After telling you sternly to drive carefully, John watches you drive off home. He stands in the hall and looks at the painting leaning against the wall, left forgotten. He picks it up and frowns at it, he has a strong feeling he knows exactly who sent it, and he needs to pay a visit to an old friend.

————————————–

“I know why you’re doing this Santino,”

“Oh? Do enlighten me, John.”

The smaller man pushes a cup of espresso across the counter, trying to calculate in his head whether this will end in a fight.

“As revenge, for her. But you’ve got it so wrong. We were never together. It was a one night drunken thing. After a long day at work, we were both hurt and sad…but it meant nothing.”

Santino frowns, shaking his head. “That makes it even worse. You know I wanted her and you still…”

John sighs, puts a large hand on his ex-friend’s shoulder “I’m sorry. I didn’t know she’d bolt like that…when she found out she was pregnant…I didn’t know…”

Santino grimaces, not wanting to believe him, but he knows that John Wick tells the truth, John Wick is an honourable man.

“I guess I should blame her, not you. At least you got Connor out of it…and now…you’ve got something else…”

John shoulder’s tense again in protection as he refers to you. “Do you promise to leave y/n alone?”

“She’s so different from her John….I couldn’t see at first why you wanted her…then I saw how she is with the boy…the depth in her eyes looking at art…”

John clenches his fists and Santino sees it. “Calm down she never even looks at me when you’re around. That’s the other thing I noticed, she loves you.”

John shakes his head “I….we haven’t said…that…”

“Well you should…hurry up and say it before something or someone ruins it. Trust me, I’m talking from experience here.”

“Thanks for the advice Santino.” John looks at him then, nostalgic. “We used to be good friends. I hope in time we can be that again.”

Santino shrugs, still proud, but then he smiles and it’s genuine. “I hope so too…”

—————————–

You are sitting with Connor who is telling you excitedly about his first day at school. You listen, delighted for him, but cannot stop the nagging feeling at the back of your mind, he doesn’t need you anymore.

Connor hugs you and goes to find his school book bag. You smile hoping your love of books has rubbed off on him.

You chew your lip, and grab your laptop, finishing typing out your application for your Masters. It may be coincidence that you’ve chosen a school a few miles from John’s house, or it may be hope that refuses to go away despite the stern reality checks you keep giving yourself every morning in the mirror.

This is just sex to him…he sees you as a bit of fun…nothing serious…a man like that would never want you for real…get a grip.

A little harsh maybe, but at least it stops you from daydreaming about white dresses and bouquets, Connor in a mini version of a suit and bow tie…moving in with John, having sex all over the house, going out in public without having to hide.

Your laptop flashes a red light warning it’s about to die. You curse, realising you left your charger at home, rummaging in John’s drawer to see if he has a spare one you can borrow. Under the pile of envelopes and nursery reports your hand closes on a pile of postcards, wrapped together with a rubber band. The top one shows greetings from some sunny destination and you flip it over, casually curious. A light feminine scrawl on the back informs John: still out here enjoying the sun, please kiss my son for me…

An ice cold dread freezes in your veins, all your worst fears have been confirmed. John is still hung up on the ghost of a lover…and is distracting himself by fucking the nanny.

You hear John coming in through the door and you simply hold up to the postcards, struck dumb. John runs a hand through his hand, looking pained but not wasting time with bullshit, keeping his voice calm.

“She sends them for Connor…just so I know where she is. I’ve never contacted her back…it’s nothing…honestly…”

You stare at him, feeling your eyes cloud with tears. “But she’s not nothing…she’s something to you…and all I am is the nanny!”

“Don’t be so….ridiculous!”

“You never take me seriously John…”

He stares at you, “What are you talking about?”

John gapes at you and you throw up your hands “Just leave me the fuck alone…”

You storm out to your car and John chases after you, standing in front of it and crossing his arms.

You rev the engine and he just raises a dark eyebrow, immovable in front of the car.

You dare to beep the horn and that’s enough for him to move to the driver’s side, opening the door. You take your hands off the wheel but stay in your seat, sulking.

John sighs with exasperation, looking down at you “Can you please get out of the fucking car y/n”

“Why?” you say, in a small voice, your anger has dissipating and left a rather guilty feeling that you may have overreacted. After all, John was just trying to spare your feelings.

“Am I going to have to lift you out?”

You shake your head and hug yourself. John rolls his eyes and bends to scoop you up into his arms despite your protests.

He carries you inside and deposits you on the living room carpet.

“Now.” He says sternly, and you feel a rush of sympathy for Connor. “You’re going to stay here until we’ve figured this out.”

You pout, knowing you’re acting like a brat. “Spill it.”

John sighs, but nods, gesturing with his hands as he explains.

“She started sending them a couple of years after he was born…I have no way to stop it, and I thought..maybe one day Connor might want to see them…know at least his mother was thinking of him…”

You sigh, the fight completely gone out of you. “I understand.”

“But you don’t…” John takes your hands and kissing them, imploring you to look at him.

“I never loved her, but I do love my son. And….I love you…”

“What?” you murmur, looking at your feet.

“I love you.” John repeats, lifting your chin with a finger, he caresses your bottom lip with his thumb. “You don’t have to look so sad about it.”

“I’m not…I just realised…that means you’re stuck with me now…”

John chuckles “I am? Perfect…”

“I love you too John.” You say in a rush, unable to wait any longer.

He kisses you, wrapping you up into his strong arms so passionately your feet almost leave the ground. He holds you for a long time, murmuring reassurances into your hair that you’re not just the nanny to him, that this is real. When you part he is looking at you with shining dark eyes so full of love you wonder how you ever could have doubted him.

“Oh, by the way, you’re fired.” he smirks, pressing close against you and you are glad to see your declarations have not dampened the heat between you.

You flutter your lashes at him.

“Too late. I already quit.”

John lets out a loud laugh and takes you once again into his arms, squeezing you tight, thinking with eager excitement of sharing the news with Connor. He finally got what he wanted, another chance at happiness, and he’ll be damned if he ever lets it go.

——————–

The End (for now… ;) )


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